The Homely

I thought I'd take on the challenge of drawing the homeliest things I could find, things I almost avoid looking at and certainly never focus on.

While we were waiting for dinner at a little Mexican restaurant in our neighborhood, instead of eating as many chips as I possibly could, I drew the exceedingly homely condiments caddy with its slightly crushed Splenda and sugar packs.

At home, I spied Jesse's formerly favorite mousie, fallen out of favor and mouldering away behind the door to my studio.  It still has a yellowed tag that says something about its contents {??} and the word China.  And on my drawing table
                                                                                                       lay a pitiful push pin with a bent tip.

This collection is starting to remind me of the Arnold Lobel children's  story "Tearwater Tea," in which Owl cries over sad objects. So  I give you
"condiment caddies that are covered with greasy dust, mousies that the cat no longer plays with, pushpins that have no further use."

And what about "plastic palette knives that no one ever uses, dish drainers that don't quite fit the drain, a travel toothpick that came free on an airline but that is no longer taken along on trips, the strange little between-the-teeth brush that is too clogged and bent and disgusting to use"?