Pallet. A large glass dish.
Inside my paintbox top. I've had the paintbox since I was in junior high school. Top left a watercolor by my friend Frankie. Top right a photo of Vincent Van Gogh's grave. Bottom left a hand painted card by my sumi-i teacher Jean. Middle a painting by Gladys my grad school writing teacher who also paints. Bottom right a painting by Gael Mooney. Except for Jean's painting the others are post card reproductions of paintings.
Four to five inches fell through the night. Mom canceled her doctor's appointment so I didn't have to drive in it, but will tomorrow for another doctor.
It was cosy and warm staying inside and watching the snow fall.
I found this old sled up in the loft and put it here for decoration. Mom thinks it belonged to my uncle, Dad's brother Robert. Robert was a minister and published 3 theological books.On Saturday I went to another art fest held in a huge cotton mill. A number of artists rent spaces there in which to work. They hold the open house only once a year. It was disorienting to wander around in this huge space looking for the artists as I got there early and not many people were walking around.
Afterwards I came upon an indoor farmer's market in town. There were live musicians, food vendors and little tables where you could sit and eat. There were potters, felters, jam and wine makers, bread makers and honey makers all selling their wares. It was one of the nicest farmers markets I've ever come upon. I bought a bottle of wine made from rhubarb. And sparkling cider for Mom's 90th birthday celebration.
Today I have puttered in the studio. At some stages there seems no point in taking photos as the progress is discernable to me but not to others. I found two interesting photos of robes in some of Dad's archeology books. One a linen robe from Egypt. Another a robe that looks to be made of patches like the one I am doing from AD 400 Peru.
