There is a space in my Benjamin Moore Frappe (aka beige) kitchen begging for attention.  Over a stove is not exactly the place for a nice print, though.  Grabbing a pic of a journal drawing and without over-thinking for once, I ordered a 24×36 canvas.

That was during the holidays.  So, the UPS guy walking up the driveway today was a nice surprise.  So is the pop of color and the play against colorful teapots.  And blowing something up, changing its scale, is eye-opening.

Most of my drawings are small scale — 5×8 or 9×12 — occasionally 11×14 (like the original for this).  Making myself move from the insular safety of a journal to canvas on the wall forces me to really look at it and see potential beauty in sharing the personal.

I can also see how random doodles & squiggles with a fat Sharpie can evolve.  And how health can turn to illness instantly, in one phone call.  Done prior to a tumor removal and biopsy, many of the doodles represent pills.

One set of pills gave me a 101-degree fever and chills.  That’s me with the rosy cheeks.  Shivering spurred on the doodles and coloring them (with Caran D’Ache NeoColor II pastels) helped me pass the time while I waited for my system to clear the culprits.