We will start with the walk to the river near my house. It is filling up as the dam gets adjusted.
And wildflowers coming up by the river…
The violets inspired me to get back to the six way opening book that I was painting flowers in.
Next to this book on the shelf was this old attempt of mine to replicate Lorraine’s eucalyptus contact print books that she has sent me. The paper is not the best. I must have folded it against the grain because it is all ruffly on the fold. My leaves were not the best. But I just went ahead anyway and painted in some of the flowers that were blooming that Spring of a few years ago.
I am going to keep this book handy because its crudeness has a certain appeal. It already feels and looks worn out. Just the thing to paint in when I feel the same. Sort of a tattered collaboration.
The Meadow Book was opened again to capture the wintery feeling before Spring arrived.
I used different brushes and washes to get the tall dead cold grasses and a chilly mourning dove.
And another couple pages in the Sticks and Stones Book.
I promised myself to get out more by taking myself out to dinner every other Tuesday at a favorite restaurant of Lee’s and mine. By coincidence they sat me at our old booth. It was such a lonely feeling sitting there with no one across the table from me, and brought back other memories of the friends Lee and I always had dinner with there at that booth.
But I am going to return in two weeks with a friend from here in my new neighborhood. She used to live in our town before I moved here, and would stop by Lee’s and my workshop in town to say hi. Then life took her someplace else and then back to here where she would stop by Lee’s and my booth to still say hi. We shall have a good visit over dinner and remember things and people that used to be.
In the meantime I will keep busy here in my studio drawing, painting or stitching.
There was a nice view over our houses the other morning when I was walking back from town.
And an interesting, agitated sky that afternoon.
It was soon after the poetry reading at the library and my head was full of words in columns that spread through emotions.
Just now the delivery man left boxes that hold my new table and two chairs for the porch. I was hoping they would come all assembled and carried by two jolly fellows to wherever I wanted them. Instead I got one jolly fellow declining my request he stick around and put them together. So off I go with expectations that all pieces and parts are there. I will take my rubber mallet with me to give additional encouragement to misalignments.