Sometimes I feel like an archeologist, searching for little details. How does that petal curve? What color is it? Is it bigger — or smaller? I’ll look at a blossom, turn to the canvas — and when I turn around to look again, I have to remind myself exactly which blossom I was looking at. Tedious work at times. I probably would have enjoyed archeology, out there in the rubble, sifting for tiny details.
A bit like “Where’s Waldo”.
Had to quit painting at 3. It was too dark to see colors. A good night for a sauna, a pizza and a Netflix!