Still cold and wet outside so to avoid sculpture I cleaned out the studio. Haven't painted for a couple of years and I don't look after my stuff. Brushes were crusty and had to dig into the paint tubes in the hope of moisture. Nice though. The space is high in the house reached by a rickety ladder and I'm left alone. Big with light from the four points of the compass it allows me to stop and dream. And then? To the pallet knife. Memories of days making concrete tanks with plaster over chicken wire. The oil paint thick and luscious the magenta somehow heroic the white is white. Is the result OK? I like to go up next day and surprise the painting. The sudden viewing quickly finds faults. Does it work or is it out to the sculpture again.
I think I'll become a rock star!!