Primary colors in late January are fine and nourishing things. On days when snow falls thick and fast, the north wind blows through telephone lines and one can't see past her front door, they make her feel like dancing, kicking up her heels and throwing paint all over the frayed and tattered canvas of her life.
It is one of those days, and I am about to run away without ever setting foot out of the little blue house in the village and plunging into the deep snow beyond. To be honest, I couldn't paint my way out of a recyclable bin bag, a gunny sack, a backpack or a tardis, but that is quite all right. This morning, my brushes in their old clay mustard crock outshine any summer bouquet I can think up, and all the colors in their dear little pots, tubs and tubes are hollering for attention. Throw in a sheaf of watercolor pens in vibrant shades, and life is good.
Mixed on my palette, the vibrant reds, blues and yellows dazzle the eyes, and even the exuberantly spattered tarp on the floor is arty stuff, probably much more so than what I will be smearing on paper, canvas and all over myself this morning. What a great splendid sticky "hallelujah" sort of mess I am about to make - just the right thing for a late winter day. There are several bags of snow in the forecast, but I may not even notice them.
3 comments:
Some play in the snow and some play in the paint. Have fun!!
Have a fun colorful time. I thank you for stopping by the computer as your started your adventure, so when you read this I hope you've been some wonderful places.
You know what my first thought was when seeing that tiny little pixie in my inbox? What a great bouquet of artistic flowers.... You must have had a marvellous time! And I'm glad for you - it mustn't be easy with these extreme weather conditions.
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