This is a sketch of two old growth oak trees on a mountain before mountains. Ahhh. Peace. They will be in Summer growth. Yes. Obviously in the sketching, or kvetching, as it were, I struggled between love for branches and foliage. Hmmm. I will most likely have to dig in with a deeper sketch before I paint (agh!) to determine my final lines, over the lines you see, in the upper third of the canvas. Hee. This has NEVER happened before.
I did a tiny sketch before this on copy paper and it was PERFECT! ha. I had no doubts. It was mostly foliage. Lovely. But once I started sketching, I fell in love with the growth and the movement, the dancing of the tree limbs, and before long, I needed to plant foliage clouds over them, and I really didn’t want to at that point. Hmmm. Alas. This happens all the time — the painting becoming what you did not expect it to be. Hee.
Okay. Fortunately, I’m painting in thick acrylic, not thin, so all will be well.
Heavy duty pain day. I had to paint the edges of six paintings today or bust. It’s getting too close to the surgery — I have to get these paintings out of the studio. Screaming back and corollary neck pain. I have the heating pad rash again. Bah. Have to put that away. (again) (It feels sooo good.)
I painted the lines of the edges with great confidence today, where usually I’m afeared. Where does my confidence come from? Where does it go? I have no control over it at all. Another reason I can’t work. I was glad to have it, though, hard enough to paint a straight edge, you know, 22 or 28 inches of straight edge in black over a blue sky? Right. But I did well. Stroke. Me.
Three paintings have only one edge left and they only need stringing — they’re outta here.
Hey. I had to kill a small, bustly brown spider right next to the computer today and I’m still feeling guilty and on edge from it. I just HATE killing anything. Hate it. But I had to. There was no putting it in something and taking her outside, or him or whatever. He was fast moving and wily. He saw me and started hiding immediately as I looked for something flat and strong to bash him with. Oh, really this is awful. He hid behind my age-old multi-media goal sheet from, like, 2003, which still inspires me, only now it has a bashed spider behind it. Eww. Really now.
So now I wonder about all the other spiders who are NOT wily and forthcoming in the room. ‘Tis the season for all creatures great and small to burgeon. Sigh.
See, usually I run and ask Jason to be the killer. That’s awful. I’m bad.
It’s like in the Life of Pi where he kills the fish with the hammer (which I was hiding my face in the pillow for) and he cries and begs forgiveness for. That’s me. And I don’t eat fish either. I suppose I would eat … whatever I had to under life-threatening circumstances. Which is one reason I don’t travel much. Ha.
I’m a wimp.
I’ve got enough going on, on my own without leaving home, you know? Ha.
Ready to Live, my ass!
Yeah, it’s a nice, peaceful scene, all right. All spiders be spared in that world. And they go eat something else. Nature. Munch on. Cycle, circle. It’s peaceful, all right, see? I’m paying for it, sure.