Swept away by the process. Again.

I had all kinds of errands and gardening planned for the morning, or at least on a list, but the studio won. I am still dressed in my running clothes (that I never ran in). How did it happen? Well, here's where I started; around 8 am I was just going to clean up my palette and paint a couple of the magazines - the darkest and lightest.
That led to -
reworking all the wood of the chest - top and front
added highlights to the lock and handles
all of the twine and added some bristles
top plastic of the bags on the center newspapers
the stack of newspapers - darks and light
a couple of the magazines - the darkest and lightest
a few diagonals on the letters the magazine name
the lightest streaks on the crystal ball
the yellow haze on the curtain behind and to the left of the crystal
every feather from the neck down
widened the neck and left wing

Here's a detail:

The next thing I knew, it was 4pm. Now I am drinking a pot of tea and thinking about doing a little bit on Didus Ineptus.

feather and domino spots

Feathers and domino spots and some more detail in the folded newspaper.



I'm feeling the momentum. Sometimes painting is like stepping into the edge of the ocean and being smacked down by a wave. Other times, it's like being pulled out to sea by a riptide. The thing is, you go willingly. At the end of the day, you paddle wearily back to the shore of your other life. The one with dinner to cook and laundry to fold. It's a good life.

Great day at the easel

Some days I paint. Some days I kick painting butt and take names. This was the latter.
After a sweet morning working in the yard (adding a new arbor and skating shrubs around to better places) I came inside and set to work, hoping to get the upright newspapers started.

I have just set down my brush and have the newspapers, the twirls of plastic bags, the dominoes, the crystal ball on its silver stand, the lock, the handles and the twine all laid in. They will all need more layers and much refining, especially the top of the plastic bags, but I rejoice. It was a great day at the easel.