






Listening to books on tape while assembling and glueing, cutting profiles and then finally coming to halt when the Golden gel medium ran out. To be continued with the next shipment from Dick Blick.
- Nancy Boudreau
of the art and soul of N.Boudreau














Flaming red maples subdued by increasing cold and darkness, go dormant. Sap fails to rise. The leaves dry into ruddy, seven-fingered hands that clench shut into tight fists which shake angrily in the frigid winds.
















A strange morning, this Halloween, waking thinking that it was Monday, not Sunday, eager to resume work in the studio. A sweet, hot cup of coffee enjoyed while perusing the internet, discovering other artists, among them, Painting Well, who donates 100% of her profits to cancer research. My belabored selection, a rare purchase. . . then, apropos of Halloween, in that last sip of coffee, I notice something alien swilling around my mouth. Ptah, ptah!!! Expectorated remains examined between index finger and thumb: a soggy spider, who'd somehow fallen into the coffee pot, drowned and ended up in that last swig of caffeinated brew. 






A couple of carved sugar pumpkins, sweet little things for your Halloween pleasure. Yes, I did carve these.
