Self Portrait

So, Brian at The Cheek of God did this, a while ago.  You answer 12 questions, type the answers into flickr, choose a picture on the first page that moves you, and put the whole thing into a mosaic.  It took waaaay more time than I thought it would, but I liked it.  Plus, it gave me a couple more triggers for future pieces.  Which is good.  Because I am very much lacking in the inspiration department these days.  Here’s the list of questions:

  1. What is your first name?

  2. What is your favorite food?

  3. What high school did you attend?

  4. What is your favorite color?

  5. Who is your celebrity crush?

  6. What is your favorite drink?

  7. Where would you go on your dream vacation?

  8. What is your favorite desert?

  9. What do you want to be when you grow up?

  10. What do you love most in life?

  11. Choose one word to describe you.

  12. Your blog’s name?  ( I changed this one.  The original question asked for your flickr account name.  Mine involves both my first and last name.  So that wasn’t gonna fly.)

And here are my answers:

 

 

What?  You can’t tell what the answers were just by looking at the photos?  And I thought we knew each other.  Sigh.

Fine, here they are:

1.  Ginny.  Judging by the other photos available, Ginny is a ridiculously popular name for small dogs and rabbits.

2.  Chataeubriand.  God, it just glistens, doesn’t it?  (Why yes, my life is surprisingly well insured.  Why do you ask?)

3.  Youngstown High School.  Which looked nothing like this. 

4.  Navy blue.  I’m not very girly, but there’s something about a crinoline…

5.  Dave Grohl.  He makes me feel exactly like I did when I was 16.  Anything could happen.  Nothing would, but anything could.  (And it makes me think of my poor, poor friend Tara, who had to witness my all-consuming and should-be embarassing crush, up close at the Foo Fighters concert last spring.)

6.  Colorado Bulldog.  Here in Canada, that’s a vodka paralyzer (kahlua, vodka, coke and milk).  I just wanted so badly to sit across from that woman, and hear everything she could possibly tell me.

7.  Corfu.  You were expecting blue water and white beaches, perhaps?  Well, I like old and decaying.  So there.

8.  Homemade chocolate cake.  This image came up, with the title, “Everybody Poops.”  Everybody does poop.  And that is why poop is funny.

9.  Famous wealthy writer.  I have not a hot clue what this dude has to do with writing.  But that’s his neck stretched over his chin.  Whoa.

10.  Sleeping late.  I just want to find that patch of sun and curl my entire body into it.

11.  Scattered. 

12.  Praying to Darwin.  This guy’s name is Devon, and the photo was taken on Hollywood Boulevard.  Apparently, he dresses up as Chucky, for the tourists.

 

That was fun.  Thanks, Brian.

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15 responses to “Self Portrait

  1. I like Grohl too. What’s really funny about that guy is that he gets better looking as he gets older. Like his features are settling in.

    Unlike the wealthy writer in #9. LOL.

  2. You are quite welcome. Glad you enjoyed this. It does take some time, especially if one of the pictures you chooses ends up not being shared and can’t be shown in the mosaic. That happened on both mine and my daughter’s mosaics. Frustrating . . .

    And I almost crapped when I saw Grohl. At first, quick glance, I thought it was Mikael Akerfeldt of Opeth. Check out their site and you’ll see what I mean. I *love* Opeth and was about to give you an uber cyber hug. But Grohl will do . . .

    Have a great Tuesday . . .

  3. The hell is Chateaubriand? I’m so unrefined…I know. 😦
    It’s some type of steak dish right? French I’m gathering?

  4. well, well, well Ginny – we now know even less about you!!!!

    I see you picked Corfu as your dream vacation spot – good choice darling …. love the Greek islands with a passion!

  5. Kitty: Mmm hmm. I wonder how it’ll all play out in 20 years. Cause if he balds…oh who am I kidding I’ll still love him.

    Brian: They do bear a resemblance when they are in the midst of RAWKIN’ OUT. Why are the Swedes such a dark people? Why? (I youtubed Opeth. Hmm. Not bad.)

    Maria: It’s a big ‘ol filet mignon, covered in butter, then broiled, then topped off with bernaise sauce (which is egg yolks and butter, basically). And I’m pretty sure I was your age when I first heard of it. So don’t feel bad.

  6. Dave Grohl does more for me when he has short hair and a couple of days growth.

    Also, glad you explained the Chateaubriand. Some of us were deeply concerned.

  7. What is with the table cloth avatar us non wordpress folks get?

  8. Wendy: The Corfu fantasy used to include frolicking, topless, on those beaches. Something about having 2 kids has killed that.

    aj: Let’s just agree on the fact that Dave gets the job done. As to the avatar, do you not get your choice of which lovely tablecloth represents you? (perhaps one should not be so hasty to delete one’s wordpress blog….I’m just sayin’.)

  9. Is this being scored?

    1. Well, Allen.

    Hey, what was that shiny thing?

    9. A child.

    10. Family.

    11. Fool.

    12. What’s a blog?

  10. I am so going to do this.

  11. Allen: Wow, I never even thought of child as an option. Totally would have picked that instead.

    Rassles: Please, please do. I recommend clicking the link to Brian’s page, because he took the time to explain it much better than I did.

  12. Okay, so when my son was really small he didn’t want to poop. Ever. So I made him up a song, to the tune of “Everybody hurts”.

    EVERY-BODY POOPS!
    BUT NOT EVERYBODY CRIES!
    EVERY-BODY POOPS!
    SOMMMMMMETIMES!

    I love that song. Thank you for reminding me of it.

  13. No choice. Instead, the delete button scorned me, branding me a table cloth best served with chips and salsa.

  14. Chick: That is delightful. Not everybody cries. So important to get the word out.

    aj: I had a couch with that pattern. Not even Goodwill would take it when I was done with it.

  15. Ginny, what’s not to love about childhood?

    Child: ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling… Mom can I have some money for the I’scream truck?

    Parent: mortgage.

    Child: oooo Dad look, dog poop!

    Parent: oh crap, what’s next?

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