Dandelion Duck: Breakthrough Artist

 

Dear Primrose,

If Myrtle can look for clues before she has a mystery, well then I can paint before I have an inspiration. My sketchbook is full and I have moved on to any piece of paper that I can find. Nothing can stop me! I don't even need a beret with glitter on it! I am an artist. Naturally.

Please join me for my first opening at the Duck Family Gallery on this Wednesday afternoon. There will be lemonade and tons and TONS of masterpieces.

The kitchen is Gallery #1. These are my early works. I didn't want to include them, but Mama insisted. She said that they will provide my audience with a little history and context - you know, my artistic struggles and all. This talent wasn't handed to me on a silver spoon, after all. Siiiiigh.

My bedroom is Gallery #2. These are from my Yellow Phase (known to my closest friends and family as my waiting-for-my-big-sister-to-drive-me-to-the-art-store-to-buy-more-paint phase).

The living room is Gallery #3. These are my best works, so bring your camera.

Creatively yours in every color imaginable,
Dandelion

Dandelion Duck and Her Empty Sketchbook

Dear P,

Oh defeat! I had saved my perfectly clean, white, glittering sketchbook for endless summer days of painting and drawing. Such big plans to fill it every day with beautiful artworks that I would bring to our first day of sixth grade and Mr. Cerulean would take one glimpse and then faint onto to the art room floor. Then, after I wake him with the smelling salts that I will have ready in my backpack, he will hand me a black beret with the word "artist" written in glitter across it and promote me to high school art - no, college art!

Oh! My plans are at risk! Now summer is here and I am sprawled on the living room floor staring at the blank pages. What should I draw? Something from my imagination? Something from my daily life? Whatever it is, it should be perfect. Right? Or else, what is the point? 

Signed,
A doomed duck, alone with her empty sketchbook.

PS. It also doesn't help that Myrtle has been trailing me with her magnifying glass and clue notebook every day. Thank goodness she has been obsessed with that cookie. Did you ever learn who took the bite? 

"M" is for Mystery. "S" is for Solved.

Dear Primrose,

The clues were everywhere and now I have my mystery! I, Detective M. S. Mouse ("M" is for Mystery, "S" is for Solved), am in the process of unraveling "The Case of the Cookie with One Bite Missing." Who took that bite only 36 minutes and 22 seconds before dinner? Was it...MUSTARD? Probably, but I need hard evidence before I can make my collar (that's police talk for catching him red-handed and TELLING!). 

I have notes and drawings of the scene. Now I will wait until the culprit returns to finish what he started. Gotta go! I hear footsteps and they sound hungry for cookies. It could be the perp (that's police talk for big brother).

Over and out,

Detective M. S. Mouse 

 

Myrtle Mouse Finds Her Calling

Primrose, 

The mean streets are calling to me. I'm not yet sure of the crime, but I'm quite certain that my brother Mustard is the culprit. The clues are everywhere and I've been recording them. 

Little does my careless brother know that he has left me a blazing hot trail of muddy footprints, crumbs, and something pretty gross that I have not yet identified in my crime lab.

Stealthily yours,

Myrtle Mouse, Neighborhood Private Detective (for hire now!) 

PS: Could you bring your chemistry set over later? My crime lab is horrifyingly underfunded and understaffed. How can a mouse accomplish anything in this sorry excuse for a town?!