I came down with a summer cold and am feeling rather sorry for myself.
still life with, umm, parasol and….swiss cheese?
bearing witness to grief: gnarled harvest of a hard summer
the hermit on the mountain
What is the story here? Circus dreams? Maybe I just read too many comic books. Or maybe I’m just personifying my paintbrushes.
I’ve been finding it restful to focus on line and pattern.
beach dreams and memories