I have the house to myself today. I've been to the farmer's market and had two lovely coffees in the company of my friend Lizzie at the cafe we used to work at together. I skipped out on breakfast but made a delicious brunch of soft boiled eggs on dark rye toast with cucumber and swiss chard sauteed in olive oil with a bit of salt and balsamic vinegar. I've worked on 4 paintings so far and will be outlining two more.
(my two paintings of lobster traps on the left, and an art trade portrait on the right.)
(view of rock lake from booth's rock; from one of the hikes i did while in algonquin park a few weeks ago.)
Outside the temperature is dropping rapidly; the forecast calling for snow. I'm feeling a bit run down today so I doubt I'll get to cleaning up the front bed before the snow hits, but then....it might not stay. It might tease me and melt and then get warm again, so everyone else can go about their business in spring jackets and light layers, hoping the real snow will stay away until November. December. Maybe not come at all. But I'm waiting for the first flakes in great anticipation. Perhaps I'm fighting the rest of the cold I should have gotten before I left for Ontario a few weeks ago. Last night I coughed all through the night, apparently, but I felt like I slept well when I got out of bed. My grandiose plans of accomplishments will have to wait, I suppose, for a different day. I'll practice the art of resting (as best I can). I'm not that great at it. The guilt to be doing things is great; there are blank canvases in the studio! They need outlines or quick notes written on their plastic sleeves or something!
But creeping up on me is s strong desire for tea, some BBC and some time curled up in bed. Resting is as important as doing.
I will keep reminding myself of that.