It is really cold, so I made myself a cup of chai after I put away my Trader Joe stash, and I looked at those organic peppers in their little celophane package and thought, gee, I think I will immortalize them before I cut them up for crudites today for my folk's pre-Christmas Christmas. So here is the beginnings of the painting, done on the kitchen counter because the studio is Arctic-cold at the moment, and I got my PG&E bill, and am conserving heat by keeping that door closed. I am not unhappy with this little slaphappy work. It is quite joyous, actually. I need to work a little more on it, but not too much. I feel that my work is more, well, ME, when I leave it a little rough. Okay, a lot rough. It reflects my inner process when it is messy, like finger paints, elemental, you know? I was running a lot on instinct, and not sure whether I liked it when I quit, to make some dinner (I was already in the kitchen, how convenient is that!), and then didn't feel up to bringing all the paraphenalia out again after. Maybe this afternoon, after the get-together of the whole family. Yes, I will need to have something to slap away at, then.
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