The Painted Pomegranate Clock

I drew Paul again for the Christmas drawing. He is impossible to buy for. According to Scroogenomics, there is nothing I can possibly buy for Paul that will be as satisfying as something he would buy for himself. If he really wanted it, he would have bought it himself. Purchasing a gift for him would only work (without losing value in the exchange) if I were in a higher economic sphere and bought something he wanted for himself that he could not afford--like a Ferrari or something. Or a new wardrobe from J. Crew.

And so, homemade is the only way I can give Paul something he might like and neither of us can buy. This year, I painted this pomegranate clock. The pomegranate is a what I call a "fashion fruit." The artichoke and the lime are other fashion veggie-fruits. I like fashion fruits. They taste good. They taste extra good because I feel stylish and confident when I eat them. I feel powerful. I bought my first pomegranate yesterday (actually, Maggie's mom bought it for me), and peeled it and ate it. And I felt strong inside.

These are past Christmas paintings for Jack and Janet:


So Jack, I'm sorry I didn't finish your painting in Vegas this Christmas. I'm such a failure. I hope you're not jealous that Paul has gotten three paintings in the past year. One day it'll happen. I won't botch it. But the trouble is that I associate you with landscapes and calm colors, and not floating rolling pins or brightly colored ears that are like hallucinations. I'll finish something for you soon that isn't just another kitchen appliance.