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prodigal daughter returns

up with figs, bird lady of knoxville

Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective days mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch - either in illustration or word form - and the other would make a companion sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise might make both minds more nimble. Hopefully.

Birdlady of knoxville

It started a few months ago, first with one little birdie. He (or she, it’s hard to tell with birds) landed on my hand when I pointed to the hole in our backyard where I found the buried plastic saint. At first I figured that one of our house’s previous owners was a firm believer in the whole St. Joseph can sell your house thing. But then there were more birds. And more. And I took a closer look. Whomever had buried the plastic saint either a) grabbed St. Francis rather than St. Joseph or b) was trying to lift her own bird curse by giving a St. Francis icon a dirt nap.

Whichever, however, matters not. All I want right now is to get all of these dang little birdies to fly away home before my dry cleaning bill equals the GNP of several small nations.

Text ©Adrienne Martini; illustration ©Lisa Horstman. Until the end of time. Or something.


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