Ready to Move on to the Next Pastel Painting

There's snow on top, then layers of ice. Between the lower ice shelf and the water, icicles hang down, some looking like fierce sharp teeth and others like they should be on a crystal chandelier. The water, what is visible, is dark and fast-flowing shooting out from under one section of snow-covered ice to disappear under another. 

Some snow/ice sections are shaped like irregular flying saucers with a wider white top and tapering down to a smaller-circumferenced ice stand or rock with dark cave-like openings along the shoreline. I can't help but look and get caught up in the minute variations. I finally edited and posted photos taken the past four days.

Driving home from breakfast with artist friends on Wednesday, the gauge in the car read 34 degrees. I went out on the back deck to take photos of the brook and the thermometer there read 42 degrees. Not that warm, but with the sun, it felt balmy. I took my time, put up a couple of bird feeders. (I only put them up when I’m sitting here and take them down at night.)

The ducks were out across the street and ran down the driveway to the edge of the road where snow melt was running. It was funny to see them trying to splash in the small stream and hearing their nasally “Quack, quack, quack,” and seeing their little tails wag. Soon they settled onto a bare section of lawn where the warm sun had melted the snow.

One of the issues with living alone and being an artist is there’s no one else to pick up the slack of doing chores. I can’t devote the time on pastel painting or writing as much as I’d like. It’s necessary to take care of every-day living. Sometimes a few days go by before I can get back in the studio.

Interruptions to the creative flow can make it harder to return to a project. I deal with that by taking one day at a time and not stressing over what I’m not getting done. I strive to enjoy every moment and celebrate even the little accomplishments. And I do accomplish something good every day!

I managed to sneak tweaks here and there on the rose of Sharon painting and signed it. I decided not to crop it. I practiced more with raindrops, and after re-doing them, I called the painting done, let it sit for a day, then sprayed it with fixative.

As always, I question. Am I really done? Should I do more? Too often, though, excess tweaking doesn’t help. I need to walk away and leave it alone. And already, paintings on the other easels are calling, “Me! Me! My turn!”