Constructing Mother Nature

Thanks to a large book trade-in through Powells, I recently was awarded with nearly $100 worth of book buying credit. Sa-weet. And so, a book buying frenzy ensued. I was able to get a lot of good ones, but by far the *best* one that came in the mail was this gem:

I love animals and nature and taxidermy and natural history museums. So a book entirely devoted to the creation of the dioramas at the American Museum of Natural History is sorta like a big cake with ice cream and fudge and sprinkles poured all over it. Yummy.
It's filled to the brim with enlightening text and the most amazing photos of artists and craftsmen constructing the various models and scenes.This guy is living my dream job (only, hopefully it would entail a bit more than painting just bird droppings...).

In other news, I had a dream last night that after 3 years of diligently slaving away on a painting, I finally finished it. And it was the best piece I had ever done. So, naturally, I went to the roller skating rink to celebrate, which is weird because a) I haven't been skating in years, and b) I don't even like roller skating. For some unexplainable reason, I brought the painting with me to the rink and left it on a bench nearby while skating. When I was done skating my heart out, I went to grab my painting and go--only to realize that when I touched the painting's surface, the varnish peeled off, taking the paint with it. I was horrified. The people around me were horrified. I think screaming was involved.

And then I woke up and nervously checked the status of my current works-in-progress to make sure that I had dreamed the whole thing.

Damn. Art nightmares are the *worst*.