Went home for lunch and the cleaning lady was there. I could never have servants or a home staff. It's like being a prisoner in your own house. So, instead of a nap, I went out into the studio and worked on a cloud painting, which started out as a sunset effect, but ended up as:
When The Light Goes Out On The Desert
If you've ever gazed at a brilliant sunset for any length of time, you were probably amazed at how quickly it fades, and how quickly the same clouds that were translucent mere seconds ago, are now devoid of color and quickly fusing into dusk. This painting has that effect, just before the lights go out.
The cleaning lady and her husband were still rummaging through our bedroom, so I started another study of the same sunset, this one, not quite as good, but nonetheless a decent portrayal of:
Stock Tank At Twilight
When I'm on the recumbent cycle I enjoy talking to a guy I'll call Eddie Ace who, like me, had a heart attack and is from a small town in the midwest. He really is an old horndog and often tells me about his old flames, which I find quite amusing, mainly because he is so blunt about it, and because, on some level, we can all relate to the ones that got away.
As Eddie bicycles along he looks over at me every so often with a conspiratorial grin, like old horndogs do. Here is my rendition of that look:
Eddie The Horndog
"Who, being loved, is poor?"
—Oscar Wilde
No comments:
Post a Comment
Post your comments