christine philbrick
"Dogfoolery Studios--what's that?" you ask
The "studios" part is just another name for the little rooms in my brain, I guess--sadly I do not live in a renovated industrial building with huge
windows and fantastic light--but I do have dedicated brain-space for making picture books, designing t-shirts, painting on canvas, creating
repeating patterns... I love it all, and would add a few more to the list if there were more hours in the day to make things!
The "Dogfoolery" part is this:
Some people see dogs as noble..(which they can be, when they are not drinking out of the toilet)
as warriors... (which they are, until they curl up with their stuffed bunny)
as olfactory geniuses...(which they are, which begs the question WHY must she roll in the revolting
scent that presumably she could enjoy from an enormous distance???)
as faithful friends (which they are, even if they occasionally utterly forsake you in pursuit of a
varmint or for a stranger holding a taco)
For me, because of all the lovely contradictions above, dogs just make me laugh. That's my personal favorite thing about them. A dog will throw
himself into the detection of cancer cells, the comforting of the cancer patient, and the snarfing of a stray peanut with the same level of intensity. I
love that. They live by their convictions, so you never see a dog wallowing in regret. Swamp water, maybe, but never regret.
And so I want to celebrate them. They don't live very long, you know. Enough to shape a chapter of our lives, and then they go. But if we can still
look on their faces, say, in a piece of artwork, it reminds us of what life was like, of what we were like, when they were around. My dog Annabel (in
the photo) had the habit of joining in otherwise polite conversation by sitting near the participants, with her most excellent princess-posture and a
facial expression of profound dignity, and letting loose the daintiest little dog fart fanfare you have ever heard. There
is no discussion or argument that does not dissolve into giggles when punctuated by dog farts. I think Annabel
might have known that, even though she always managed to keep a straight face. In any case, such musical
interludes were but one of the many valuable services she provided to bring me laughter. I keep painting her
innumerable polka-dots, so I never forget.
I hope I can bring you some laughter too (fanfare-free, of course).