January 16, 2005
Spent all weekend working on three possible cover paintings. Did ten roughs, trying to get color right. Ruined everything I touched on Saturday. Struggled until around five this evening, finally got a decent color scheme and wash roughed in at about six. Stole heavily from Ed Mell and Frank Tenney Johnson. May have to get a lawyer to defend myself.

Went to The Home Depot at seven last night and bought ten bags of Portland Cement, to get ready for Spanish driveway project ($38 biz account).

Watched a Seinfeld (George gets a massage from a guy and worries he's gay). Studied watercolor books, marvelling at the genius of Winslow Homer, John Singer Sargent and Edward Hopper. Went to sleep with the sunset painting at the foot of the bed. So I could dream about it.

It's been beautiful out, mid-seventies, sunny, smells like spring (all the rain). With that in mind I got this from one of my Iowa relatives Philip Hauan:

It's winter in Iowa and the gentle breezes blow,
30 miles per hour at 17 below!
Oh, how I love Iowa
When the snow's up to your butt.
You take a breath of winter air
And your nose, it freezes shut.

Yes, the weather here is wonderful,
So I guess I'll hang around.
But I could never leave Iowa,
'Cause I'm frozen to the ground!!!

"Townfolk know pleasures, country people joys."
—Minna Thomas Antrim