I smeared a whole bunch of yellow onto this canvas last night, then dredged up this image today. I love the way objects just kind of materialize out of the ether onto the surface. No big hassle here, it just appeared there, the little red finch. Birds have this innocence about them, and a curiosity about the world, too. It was kind of gray outside, and the leaves were hip deep on the psuedo-lawn before I went out there to rake, in between sessions with this bright and sunny little guy. I am kind of blown away at the ease I am feeling with the paint these days. It is no longer my enemy, and while it has not lost its ability to surprise me, often delightfully, it obeys me most of the time. No joy greater than going to bed at night knowing there is something new in the world that I made that day.
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