Sixty-something woman shares ruminations as she plys the latter third of her life with the caveat that age entitles her to be absolutely outrageous whenever possible.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Worse, worser, worstest...
This is the third attempt I have made recently at a decent painting, and the best, which tells you where I am at the moment. It needs a lot of work, especially after I lifted it up to tap off the excess and got black all over the water on top of the big bird. Almost threw it in the round file after that. So it feels like time for some alcohol. No, not the sipping kind, the rubbing kind, that will smooth out the water so I can lay another layer of pastels on it. Yes, that's an idea. Or maybe it is just too far gone. Whatever. Have I ever told you my ex-husband used to put movie reviews on his answering machine? Tempted to call him see if he has seen Salmon Fishing in the Yemen, a yummy little movie now playing at the smart people's movie theatre. Also The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, another little film that is currently making over 10 times it's production cost. Yes, Virginia, there are folks out there that can survive without CG or 3D, violence or sex. We are old, but not dead yet. More, please! Oh, and back to the geese, time will tell. It could be worse. I think.