THE (RE)NEW(ED) ME

 

      I'm growing old. I don't mind that because I like sticking around on Planet Earth now that I have a bit of a clue at last as to what my life is all about. The physical aspects of aging are awkward to deal with at times, but I have a deep sense of humor, so I get by with a chuckle. I was bothered, though, about a couple of simple things. My hair is thinner and my eyelashes, being hair, are not as thick as they used to be.

    I have a THING about being real. Being honest with self and others is extremely important to me. I also, though, have a thing about being happy. I was not as happy as I used to be when I looked in the mirror. I decided to do something about that. The picture above is me. I purchased the hair and the eyelashes, so I can say they are mine. I simply didn't grow them on my own. I'm happier once again when I look in the mirror.

    Having now adjusted to the thought of wearing a wig, I am enjoying the freedom of knowing, for $20 or less, I can change my hairstyle and color any time I want! I have two wigs on order right now.

    The only facelift I will get will come from grinning often. I love to laugh. The older I grow, the more I laugh. I've always been a believer in happy endings. 

THE BIRTH OF ALEX

 

Alex rarely ever hopped. He preferred to walk on his hind legs and saunter down the road---much like a bow-legged cowboy. He tried to get his friends to call him Tex, but it didn't work. Alex lived in New Jersey. There's not a large demand for cowboys in New Jersey, although there are a fair amount of cows. Those cows, though, were raised on dairy farms and were perfectly content to graze most of the day and head to the barn to be milked at night. They did so pretty much on their own with an occasional urging from the farm work dogs, but they ran on all fours and Alex preferred to saunter.

If the truth was known, Alex was actually afraid of horses. They stood really tall and Alex couldn't figure out how he would mount a horse and was sure he would fall off once the horse moved even if he did manage to get into the saddle.

There just wasn't a large demand in New Jersey for grandiose cowboy rabbits who liked to saunter, but Alex preferred to think of himself as a rare breed. A cut above the rest. A loner. One of a kind. Tex the wrangler rabbit.

I considered starting a new blog, but decided to recycle by simply bringing up one of my original blogs and adding to it.  This is a rough draft for the idea of a rabbit named Alex who came about through an exercise I did at Sketchbook Revival on Facebook. 

Alex came from the blob at the top of the row on the right.

 

       

I think of this as Alex's Ultrasound.

I don't know how far I will carry this, but I thought it would be fun to let you into the process of how an idea is born and comes into reality.    

::::Gone to gather some cows and a horse::::

A while later: