“Would you like an adventure now, or shall we have our tea first?”
Is there anything nicer than sitting at my paints, light streaming in from the bay window, enjoying a steaming cup of Viennese tea with a splash of milk and sugar?
With every brush stroke, there is a sense of adventure. What will appear? Will the images dancing around in my mind be truly captured on the canvas?
As in all adventures - there is that middle bit. The sloughing point... the colors are blocked out but the finished picture seems a long way off. Doubts and discontent try to creep in... why, oh why did I select such a large canvas? If I had selected the small one, I would be done already! Will it really come together? My colors are smeared and muddy, is there still magic?
But then... all of a sudden it starts to appear. Perhaps just a glimmer, but all else is forgotten in pursuit. The dog has no water in his bowl, the ironing has taken on Everestian proportions... and the adventure is glorious.