Mostly Zinnias
acrylic on canvas
8 x 8 inches
Barbara Muir © 2009
sold
than I have this year. I know it's making me check my
makeup a little more frequently and brush my hair a bit
more often. But if I think I've got it together, I am big time
kidding myself. Because at least one activity makes me
forget all propriety. Perhaps not all, but most, and to be
fair to my neighbours I don't think I should go out of the
house when I'm painting.
The other day I went down the street to tell my neighbour
I'd like to paint her and her big soft white and caramel
coloured cat. She was just coming home from the office,
all clean and professional -- cool shoes, cool hair, and
a cool bag. And I was emerging into the light after
painting all day. We had a nice chat. She invited me
in to pat the cat, everything was great, until I got home,
glanced in the mirror and saw that I had paint on my face --
a big smear of coral pink on my chin, white on my forehead
and blue in my hair. I expect my hands and clothes to be
a bit spattered -- but maybe expecting people to accept
a part Scots Canadian covered in paint is taking the kindness
of neighboursa bit too far.
Yep. That's me. The crazy painter lady.
The painting tonight is another shot at the market zinnias.
The secret to making them happy seems to be to put that
flower food in the vase. They suck that up and revive in a
minute, and voila -- a still happy bouquet.
To all of you who inquired about my health -- I am on
package three of Cold FX. The cold has not had its way
with me. But it really, really wants to, so my fatigue is
legion. I goeth to lie down.
Have a loving-the-garden-flowers day.
