Time Marches On

Tracey Lawrence sings a woeful song about time, a story he must know something about or couldn't write such. We all have a story and a mere change of words and the song could ours, we cold hold on to the refrain for the stability or the uncertainy. The art work changs also and there are times I would like to capture what I did two years ago and it is gone. Days are also more complicated now, if you experience that you know about loving the change, but trying to find you're more settled self. The garden is an old thing but still complicates things as it ia have to being also a want to. I would think with an adult mind that doesn't alays feel very adult it would all work and it does, but time marches on.

Really a Test

Blogger won't let me post a photo so this is a test, dictionary pages so will try then do a bit more writing.

Trust level has risen an iota, these were quick ad not much fussing just osmething to do while bread, and cake bake, then a monitor of heavy load in washer. and I don't see a spell check.

Another bit of trust with this one at a time thing. I see that delayed gratification is a lot more practice and actuality, not just in reference to blogger but life. Now taking a risk because I can't remember which picture I posted, I had a rule about how to remember that when posting several, can't remember the rule either, I know you understand, and if you don't sometime you might.

When Old is New Again

The paintings of faces change a little or improve some, I like the same old compositions, faces that aren't real but still faces close, the flowers the birds the additions the surprise of transparency and the remembering of how accomplished.
That might be the second hardest is remembering how that happened, a lot of art can be accidental and I am not one for a plan but for more of a happening. Thinking like that can be a disappointment but the element of surprise out weighs disappointment.
I an not so fond of Picasso, but he said things that apply to me, and I have said this before but it sticks, he said, if he knew how his painting was going to turnout he wouldn't do it.

Easter, Wasn't it Just.

Seems to me I just thought about these things, struggling a year ago to work outside, now I can with great ease, therapy for the broken leg was great.
Now flowers are starting to bloom and next week quite cold at night below 30, always a trick in nature.

People use to really dress up on Easter, the stores have all those pretty colors and clothes for kids, I didn't really look for me. It is a time to spend with those you love, even if all you love aren't there you can still think of them. Anyway I was
sparked to think of an old fashioned Easter parade, being so rural as a kid I never saw one of those. We used the Paas kit for colouring eggs, and I somehow felt let down by the outcome, of course I wanted a much more detailed design, the white wax crayon was not enough. Think now of the things to use. paper transfer would of been so fun, could of printed out your own art. Wishing you a day of all good things.

The Slipping

The slipping of days, the slipping of things learned, it is best to count the forwards and not the slips. I have done a lot of practice on faces the past two weeks hair but most significant practice on eyes and the ability to draw two the same, plus if they are the same size they are not at the same level. Even worked on previous paintings posted, a few of them have eyes that are colored pencil so they erase, like all art supplies, some have a staining quality. That is a whole education and a remembering of which is which.

The garden of perennials continues to emerge, I wish not, I am not quite eager and it is early in the north. I find that what I miss so much in the fall is not exactly what I want in the spring. Even the vocabulary of plants and terms has slipped unto
just the tip of my tongue. Photos soon of efforts.