At my parents' house for Easter yesterday, my mother had everyone do water colours so I improvised this innocent pastoral. Mind you, I haven't used water colours since I was thirteen. Nonetheless, I think I captured something of the Easter Bunny's indulgent contentment at the sun setting on another Easter Sunday, his ragged body for now divested of the many thousands of eggs which by to-morrow will again begin to harden and discolour in his various organs repurposed as ovaries.
I went home and revisited the tale of another legendary egg layer, James Cameron's Aliens, a film which holds up really well. I can think of few instances of so many memorable characters being created in such a short space of time. We all remember Vasquez, Hudson, Bishop, Hicks, Apone. No one of them feels like a "type" but with just a few bits of dialogue they seem like real hardass marines contrasted with Ripley stepping onto the drop ship with what seems the grace of a ballerina by comparison.
Pausing the movie a moment to use the bathroom, I found this cricket:
How did a cricket get in my bathroom? Aliens suggested the answer to me--the air shaft. I remembered during the incident last year where my upstairs neighbour's fish tank had fallen and large portions of my ceiling had to be replaced my landlady remarking to me with horror how the tenant had all sorts of insect pets, including crickets. I caught the fellow last night in an empty blank DVD spool case, it looked back at me with what I swear was more intellect than I expect from insects. I let him go out the front door.
Finally, here's a bird from my parents' fountain yesterday.