I am going to use this as my quick reference page for all those web pages out there that I need to go back to regularly for arty things. Its my website address book! Okay normal people use bookmarks but they never create properly on my tablet. I will add to this as time goes on and if there is something out there you think is worth adding just let me know…
Classified pages for artists
Light, Space & Time exhibitions http://www.lightspacetime.com
Marketing guru and motivator (who also introduced me to Fine Art America) http://theabundantartist.com
Official Blog http://thepaintingmohon.wordpress.com
Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/thepaintingmohon
Fine art America http://www.abigail-mohon.artistwebsites.com
or google Abigail Mohon paintings. Why not upload your own Abigail Mohon painting to the web.
Just uploaded this scanned image to fineartamerica.com but have to love you and leave you because my own cat considers her convalesence ended and is mewling on to get outside!
Yesterday the servant locked me in the shed over night. She has done that before because I get a migraine when I go to the cattery. It was a glorious night so I did some trapeze artistry through the vines and got out the top window. Clever but there are only vines on the inside and the servant had closed the cat flap tight so there I was out in the big world with no way back. No yummy Felix supper. It was exciting. I couldn’t sleep a wink all night. It was kind of scary though so I scrambled up a tree, 30+ feet up feels kind of safe. She came back about 6.30am to let me out but of course I wasn’t there. I heard her shouting me so I tried to get down. Some crows came and cawed hysterically at me. Stupid birds. She came to see what the crows were fussing about. I looked down from my perch 30 foot up and looked down at her. There was only two sets of side branches all the way down. She looked tiny. I miaowed and she saw me but walked away. No help from her then. I heard her shouting from the shed. By the time she had come back I was trying to get down the next 11ft or so to the next perch. There were no side branches so I was hanging onto the bark sort of abseiling my way round and down but without the rope. It hurt but I got there. My leg hurt pretty bad so I decided to stay there. The servant still wanted me to come down and eventually she put some food at the bottom of the tree for me. I was more bothered about my leg. I made myself comfortable and waited. The man I don’t like and who doesn’t like me came then. By this time the servant had a ladder and was putting the food up to my perch. I hissed and growled at the muppet. It was my leg that hurt. I tried to drag myself away. The servant and the man went away. They came back with my box. The servant climbed up the ladder and held up the box to my perch. It was swaying a bit but I like my box, it is a safe place so I got in. It did a bit of a nose dive, my tail was sticking out and then the man was holding the box and lowering it gently to the ground. We came home, the servant talked about vets but I am going absolutely nowhere until I have had a kip zzzzzzzzzzz
I have just been messing around trying to figure the difference between scanning a painting and taking a photo of it. Like to guess which is which below?
Interestingly google says that generally photographing gives a better resolution than scanning. The fault must lie in my skill as a photographer!
I am trying to get the safari around our flat looking more like bowling turf. I brought the strimmer down, refilled the petrol can, emptied the unknown remains from the mixing bottle into another bottle rather than putting it down the sink, created the perfect 40:1 mix and away I went. Clumps remain and it feels like painting the Forth Road bridge but a start has been made. Passers by complimented me on tackling such a big job. But having broken the back of it, I realised my own back was broken. Headed indoors and diluted the Tesco Apple and Mango juice – took a big gulp and realised actually it was the unknown cocktail of petrol and oil from the mixing bottle. Martin insists I must never never never put undrinkables in drinking bottles and actually I have been told that from a kid anyway, but really it doesn’t matter what is said, after that experience I will not be doing it again in any event.