Painting Under the Oak
I almost ran out of gas on the way to China Camp. I loved the oak by the road where Marilyn was last week, but did not want to paint the same view she had done so well, so I turned my head to the left and did a different view of the same marsh. I sat down to paint quite contentedly when a sudden breeze flipped my palette. It landed face down on my shoes. After scraping the blobs of color off my boots, I settled for doing what I could. At around 11:30 the fog dissipates and the sun comes out, changing the entire color scheme but I didn't have to worry. A minute after I stepped back to look at the painting, the wind blew the easel and the attached 24 x 24" birch panel. "Oh well," I thought to myself, "at least it's acrylic, the paint's dry." I re-arranged everything, sat down again, and a wasp gall the size of a tennis ball fell on the truck, scaring the heck out of me. By then I was hungry so I ate some trail mix, pondering what to make of this nature plot. I managed to finish close to 2 pm, after getting bitten my multiple female marsh mosquitoes, and completed the last details in my living room.