Daffodils 1, oil on stretched canvas, 8x10
It feels like we've been in the depths of winter forever. Amos's death is part of it, for sure. But the snow and the cold go on and on and on. Surely, I don't have to stand in the middle of the landscape to paint it, but that's what I prefer and that is next to impossible around here, with all this snow.
So, I try new things. Time was, I'd never paint around my house. I don't understand this, but I've seen similar balkings in other painters. The yard seems at once too personal and too mundane. But this winter, there's been day after day when I couldn't leave the yard, and so my inhibitions - or whatever they are - have fallen.
And I'm trying stuff inside. I'm doing the Different Strokes challenges. I've returned to pet paintings, my first love. I have paintings going that I'm making from drawings, for the first time.
And here's a still life. It's not my favorite kind of painting to make, but so what? For an extra added challenge, I painted the bouquet from directly above, thus the skewed perspective.
The daffodils are lovely, and they brighten our dining room table. I can look past them and see cardinals and bluejays, wrens and goldfinches and squirrels on the feeders and suet. Yesterday morning, I heard a spring bird. I don't know what it was, but I know its song, and it's not the song of a winter bird.
The days are growing longer on each end, and I find true comfort in that. Soon enough, the snow will be gone, and I'll be painting daffodils springing from the fertile, sun-warmed earth.
Thanks for reading!
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