One stroke at a time.

Since I've had no makeup or wardrobe jobs the last week and a half or so, I've been trying to get myself back into painting. It usually takes me 3 or 4 paintings to remember how to paint- and one day, in the middle of a brush stroke suddenly a light bulb will go off above my head and the clouds lift and once again, I am a painter.

That hasn't happened yet. I'm still plodding along, stroke by stroke.

This is the hardest part, that sterile blank canvas.

*Notice Felicity in the background. Season One. That is the best series of all time.

I forgot to take a picture any earlier in the process than this:


And, here, I might be done, but I'm not sure.





Its not quite as easy as riding a bike. It must be a different muscle memory. Or brain memory that forgets.