Weekly Challenge #76: "Home"

The Diva's challenge this week: A home-themed tangle.

I did both an urban and a rural one. I was glad to see a lot of the entries this week were heavy on the whimsy, leaning full-tilt toward Zentangle-inspired art. Woohoo!

My favorite time here in Dallas is when it's (snowing... ha! In Texas! Aren't I hilarious? ...or) dumping buckets of rain, when I don't have anywhere to be but home in my art room or cozied up in my reading chair with my nook and my codependent cat. Whether I want him there or not.

After we get a good hard rain (providing it's not 110 degrees outside), the air smells fresh and clean, the sky gets really blue, and the clouds are all pumped up and puffy. On the *other* end of the sliding scale of happiness, we have the tornado I threw in for fun. I know it's not often you get 'tornado' and 'fun' in the same sentence, but tangling will do that for you.

The hot mess on the lower left represents Reunion Tower. In the summer, you can go up to the observation deck and watch everything shimmer from the heat of the day. That's what the flames are for... because if it's hot enough that things are looking shimmery up there on deck, you're about to discover what a toasted marshmallow feels like.

And for my rural tile, I give you a cactus playing with a beach ball. ;o)

CORKIN

I've been on a circle pattern kick lately. They're SO much fun to play with. Coming up with simple patterns and then working out piles of ways to make them ridiculously complicated is my new favorite thing.

Here's the bare-bones approach to Corkin. As with any good morning worth starting, you begin with a doughnut. I can't believe I'm saying this, but skip the sprinkles. For now.

Some things you should know about CORKIN:

1. Don't get it wet.

2. Don't expose it to bright light.

3. No matter how much it begs... never, ever feed it after midnight. 

...or it will turn into this.

And now, a word from our sponsor:

I opened my eyes

And looked up at the rain

And it dripped in my head

And flowed into my brain, 

And all that I hear as I lie in my bed

Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,

I walk very slow,

I can't do a handstand-

I might overflow,

So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said-

I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

-Shel Silverstein