The Headless Plastic Pig with reminiscence

by illimitableoceanofinexplicability

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Perhaps, if you’ve not tried to forget, you remember the ‘Study of the Plastic Pig Head’. Really? No memory of it at all? I find that hard to believe. It was, after all, well-regarded in certain circles, and I don’t mean merely looked at quite a lot, no, I mean it was afforded a small amount of respect, which as we are all aware is no small feat in this day and age. However, it was not the ‘Study of the Plastic Pig Head’ which sent me, all those years ago, skyrocketing to fame amongst a small group of people within the confines of a now famous social media site. But, enough of dredging up the past, let us now praise:

The Headless Plastic Pig

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Headless

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More words!

Yes, I painted it! I remember the day clearly, the weather wasn’t bad for the coast, maybe a light shower in the morning, but the afternoon only had a few clouds, big puffy clouds rarely seen in what was normally a low gray sky. The painting, though I can’t for sure recall, was most likely painted over another painting which I was, for reasons long forgotten, disappointed by. No easel was used to hold the heavy wooden panel upon which this is painted, for at the time I was experimenting with the technique of painting whilst (while) sitting cross legged on the floor¹. Oh, I almost forgot. It’s very important that you know ‘The Headless Plastic Pig’ is real, not just a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato², and to prove it I present a series of photographs, some containing inspirational quotes, and one wishing all my dear friends a Happy New Year, which should help to dispel any doubts you may have had.

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IMG_7065

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¹ No matter what they tell you, no matter if gifts are offered, or your wildest dreams dangled, do not believe, not even for a moment, that I, in mentioning, “sitting cross-legged on the floor” am making reference to the song, ‘ 25 or 6 to 4′ by the band, ‘Chicago’, because I’m not.

The ‘sitting cross-legged on the floor’ is between 54 seconds and one minute in the video below, in case you’re wondering.

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² Alright, I know, maybe I overuse this bit, but I do it only out of respect for Ol’ Scrooge. What’s that? You say, “Who is this ‘Scrooge’ Person’? Why, I don’t believe you don’t know! But here, here’s a quick summation:

Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shrivelled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him; he iced his office in the dog-days; and didn’t thaw it one degree at Christmas.

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Well, that about sums it up

So long, until next time

-The President and Founder

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