My creative mess on one side of the room: the painting propped against the still life table; above it peek the flowers of the very same.
Two of my flower pictures above, hanging on the wall. To the right a painting by a friend.
flower thoughts with pencil lines
In odd moments between things sometimes I like to draw. And for simplicity nothing matches the silvery scribbliness of a pencil.
I am painting flowers. I like during the pauses to draw a flower too. Even if it’s not the flower I’m painting, nevertheless the contact with petal thoughts, with clumped together, segmented, pearlesque-lovely, creamily reflective white silky petals provides a delightful end in itself.
Wandering through clouds might be more fun, but since I can’t do that I draw a white flower.
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