You probably never would have guessed, but even I cannot paint night and day. No! It’s true. (Well, I can understand you’re incredulous.)
Anyway, sometimes I must resort to raiding my storage boxes for old works so that I can keep writing a painting blog. Thank goodness, I squirreled away lots of pictures for a rainy day. Well, not that it’s raining. Actually we’re having perfect pre-autumn weather in the Washington, DC, region. I digress.
As I was saying, this is an old painting. Don’t know when I painted it. It’s that old. (Not me, it.) I set some green stuff into a jar, set the jar on a yellow pot holder and the pot holder was already setting on a pink cloth. I started painting. Painted this.
Afterwards it seemed to me like a metaphor for creating a whole little world in a jar. Water, held in glass, green things growing, light and air, and more light. My little jar of the microcosmos. And here’s a virtue of painting. The thought is still there.