Happy New Year!

I'm going to try my best to make 2011 a year of growth.

Something Old.

The old ones are the still the best.

Angels.

I gave these to Lynn of human, being a few months ago. I think today is the Day that they might be of benefit to another.
If you are that other, feel free to enable a larger view by clicking upon the graphic.

Seasons Greetings!

Notes on the graphic: This is my cover of an actual New Year greeting card from CRM-MMM.
An albumen photograph of the original can be seen here.
If I manage to stay sober enough till New Year, I may colour the graphic in.  (It might happen!)

The Light, The Shovel, And The Deep, Deep Glass.

I keeked out of the curtains, and there stood Jack Frost. He beckoned me over, and I kneeled down before him. He whispered gently in my ear, "Chill."
So I am, illuminated by the electricity saved from Zed's non-ironing, and stirring my soul with shovels of Malt.
Yes Sir! I am Chill Sansonified.

Every Way.

Shovel snow and push pixels. It's what I do. 

Window On The World.

This window is loosely based on the recent discovery of a house that CRM possibly had a hand in designing. I have drawn it in the hope that the Sun may shine through it.

I wait.
All I can see is snow.
I wait.

Lady Amalgam Redux.

Since we are in a retrospective mood, herewith find above a rework of Lady Amalgam.
In their original design, I believe these panels were used at the Ingram Street Tearooms.

Redux.

After fourteen hours of self-flagellation, I have served penance.
I served it with some shortbread and two and one half glasses of Ardbeg.
And I was happy. Life is good.

Stand Tall.

Often when I search for images, something I'm not looking for catches my eye. That is what happened with the graphic above. Alas, I cannot identify the original artist, nor remember the link from whence the image came. This is my version however then, of an image by artist unknown. If you can identify the original artist, please let me know and I will acknowledge credit.

Update. After much scanning of my disk drive, I have found the artist and link. This graphic was drawn by Professor Josef Hoffmann, architect, and published in 1903 in the Journal, Ver Sacrum #6.
In 1900, the Group of Four was invited by Josef Hoffmann to exhibit at the 8th Vienna Secession, a show of the achievements of the Austrian and international handicraft community.
My confusion was caused by the original drawing bearing the monogram FW for Fritz Waerndorfer, rather than JH, for Josef Hoffmann. Fritz Waerndorfer was a patron of CRM-MMM, and Josef Hoffmann produced this CRM-MMM inspired drawing as an Ex-Libris, probably / possibly for Fritz Waerndorfer's private library. My version differs slightly, in that I failed to understand that the figures are being used to represent plant forms, their heads/hats in florescence, and their bodies as stems. Thus there are only three 'stems' in the original, whereas I have drawn 'bodies', because I have zero talent and know nothing.

The original can be seen here. 

Sans Update 16th November 2011.
If you have arrived here from a search engine, there is a reworked version of this graphic at
http://sanspantaloons.blogspot.com/2010/12/redux.html
and a printed version pictured in my post at
http://sanspantaloons.blogspot.com/2011/05/wid-wide-wobbley.html
It is a beautiful image. All homage to Professor Josef Hoffmann.

Gameplay Gold.

This game changed my life. If it were not for this game, I would be CTO of some Fortune 50 company right now, instead of shakin' it Boss, I'm shakin' it.

I love this game. I even wrote levels.  Memories, misty water colour/color memories. Tearing up, have to stop. . .  

Inspired by DadGuy.

Smelling Opportunity #3.

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is hot, hench, and hunk.  Get yours today!*

*Well soon anyway. I've got a warehouse full of the stuff.

Smelling Opportunity #2.

I walk my memory lane
past the bundles tied in bows
where sentimental scent lingers
recalling the long faded rose

The future plans it's past
with digital flowers for all 
a sansimental spin on things
towards our nascent downfall
that's my jaded forecast.

Smelling Opportunity.

It's fast approaching that time of year where gifts are exchanged. Why not give a gift that shows how much you care? A new camera perhaps?

Whatever you decide upon, please do not give anyone my perfume. It really honks bad. Really. Bad.

(It is useful for taking varnish off furniture though...)

Icicle.

Icicle, Icicle,
I want to pick my icicle,
I want to pick my ice,
I want to pick my icicle,
I want to pick it when I like.

Under the twin Suns of Scotland, a remnant from the Porridge Wars of twelfth dotice dimension vertice nought one, where Genghis McCann fought William Wallace and Gromit for the rights to cold Porridge distribution, stirred by the ice spurtle of Garthamlock, itself hewn from ice collected from the Straits of Raith.
I shall dance tonight, and celebrate the Gortith of Vure by drinking Xol from the chilled stomach of the forty eighth Kram of Torrance, and feasting on the roast heid of Auchter Muchty.

Just another typical Scottish Winter night.