Can’t win for losing. Hung yesterday around until 5 waiting for a call from the doc, not like I need to “wait” in these cell phone days, but I wanted a good connection. Then, just after 5 I took the dogs out (another perfect afternoon) and saw I had a voicemail from the doc. Office closed when I called back from my car at the Refuge. SOOOooooo…I’ll call them as soon as I finish my coffee.
The way I see it, I’d have missed a beautiful walk, and, if the hip is going to need invasive “treatment,” I need to collect as many of these as I can. Brushed deer flies off both me and Teddy. All of us are very happy right now. It’s not called a Refuge for nothing.
In painting news, the panel on which I hope to paint Rainbow Girls in Wheatland, Wyoming, 1957 arrived yesterday and it’s beautiful. I put it carefully in a safe place so that when I’m ready for this, it will be, too. Painting on panels is wonderful, but they’re fragile until they’re framed. They are basically Masonite with some kind of magical surface painted (yeah) onto them. I’ve used these panels for oil painting, acrylic and water color, but never this one made for pastels. It’s a lovely medium gray, perfect for night, “toothy” enough to grab the conte crayons. My challenge now is to get a lamp post in the right scale to the floating princesses. I’ve also tentatively decided to add an old Coke machine to the gas station, so more drawing before I take a crack at the real thing.
This project has been fun, but I have another one in mind. I don’t think it will require all this effort to visualize, but who knows?
In the words of Denis Joseph Francis Callahan (RIP) after he would regale me with a long self-absorbed monologue, “Thanks for hearing my confession.”