It's a picture of my still life.
(And it's blurry.)
And it's a picture of my painting, only just begun...
If you haven't tried to capture the image of a frumpled towel with pen or paint, you haven't really experienced any befuddlement whatsoever.
The colors in the painting now are meant to be a sort of blueprint of the final. I do like standing there trying to see what I don't normally see. I like seeing the dark, watery disc-like shape at the bottom of a wine bottle and the tiny stem mark on a radish and the shiny gold urn glimmering through the glass bowl. It helps the world make a little more sense when you can collect and exact these mysterious pieces first in your mind and then on paper.
But life would be a little easier if we could just pull all frumpled towels flat.
The lady in the right of this picture is my teacher Louise. She is truly a gem. She makes me understand...she opens up a new world for my mind every time she picks up my paintbrush and makes the smallest dab on my canvas. "There. This bottle is turning this way." And by cracky it is.
I'm glad I hung in there. The class has been less crowded and more cooperative. It seems I always want to bolt right before things end up getting better. This time I forced myself to walk back in, to face the confusion, to see the frumpled towel hills, to be awakened by Weezy.
~Sigh~ I see a photography class in my future.