A transitory writ

Well, I haven't been up to much.  In terms of painting, at least.  I finished this a few days ago and haven't really done anything since.  But I've got some ideas stewing in my guts, so we'll see how it goes in the next day or so.


It's the third of these, with one other ready to be painted.  It turned out alright.  Actually, after I finished it I was ready to throw it off a pier, but after waking up in the morning I liked it a little better.  I'm terrible at feathers.  I need to change that, because I love the hell out of feathered things.

In other news, things down south went quite well.  I was expecting misery, awkwardness, maybe a fist fight with the ol' pater familias, but none of that really came to pass.  I enlisted the assistance of a good friend and the drives down and back went by without notice, embroiled in discussion about ethics and materialism.  Capital.  The funeral for my uncle was heartening and well attended.  Some salty dogs there, for certain.  But I patched things up with my father and got a giant cow skull in the way of peace offering.


I've strung it up with some of my other bones, and now one corner of my room looks as though I rent it out to the Predator.  I'm happy about that.  I've added a beaver skull to the bundle since the picture was taken, but you get the idea.  Otherwise I saw an old friend who I haven't seen in ages.  Our oppositionally hermetic natures prevent us from interacting much.  Whenever we do everything feels right in the universe.

I've decided that I need to start working on a larger scale.  I'm going to make a strong effort away from the moleskine sketchbooks I've been painting in and invest in some giant watercolor blocks.  Some of the ideas I'm putting together will benefit by more space.  It'll take some time to adjust, but we'll see.  I'm going to have to get a better camera to get these things onto them ol' internets, but seeing as how they don't even exist yet I'm not worried about that stage of the process just yet.

For the past week or so, things have been tentatively great.  Things are moving anyway.  I guess I'm still unsure if they are moving down the well trod path of eventual and inevitable solitude or if the footfalls are heading upward, but I'm not about to retreat.  Dismal optimist, that's me.  Until next time.