Meanwhile I switched to acrylics and scavenged for brushes old, new and ratty. The palette I chose was at an aim to extend and develop color relationships already happening in the paper colle. There is success in these beyond my immediate comprehension. There are reference to work all the way back to 2009. Problems and clever turns of the brush that helped me resolve painting then arose this past week. I am quietly astonished and aching to develop my acrylic reserves.
So, there are twenty-four in the complete series; six of which are in oils. The remaining eighteen were completed in acrylic. The series is called "Tin, Cotton, Steel and Spice" and can be found at the previous embedded link. After a day or two milling around, I'll be back at Boreal Hail Ring. I even bought a new set of pencils for the endeavor.
Aside: Luis has been reminding my of brain flashes and inspirations in the past three or four years. It seems that I've put down much and forgotten it to lay in dust. Images that flooded to mind as he quietly and gently admonished me. I can say I remember. Now seems the time for a plan. Now seems the time to priortize so as to pull the meat from the sketchbooks and photos. It is an overwhelming joy to have my own work. I remember too many times working in vein for someone else. The sacrifices of being a cog are too numerous to mention. I remember painting in the storage shed on Sunday mornings 'cause my work was more important to me than what the man in the pulpit had to say. Don't get me wrong, I was clean, dressed and in the pew by 5:56 p.m. Sermons then always seemed disjointed. When I made 9,11 and 6 p.m. services the veil lifted and I had a clue for the week. Still, by the end of the first song for evening services, I was daydreaming about paint, brushed and the weather. My church in the little shed with no light called me back. Some truths are in the brush. You don't do the work, you'll never know why your out here ever in the rain.
As ever, stay hungry and curious.