Sheltering-in-Place, Day 4
The text on the image reads
I did not finish setting up my art space today. I forgot a few things at the studio that I needed. I'm not going to risk going back out to get them. I'm going to make do.
I brought most of my brushes home. I've had some of them for over 20 years. A few are hand-me-downs on their last legs. A handful are brand spanking new. I brought all the paint I could find that's non-toxic. There's no way I'm going to try to use oils at home. There's no ventilation for it and no room. I scooped up paper and whatnot to paint on. I even dragged along a little box of drawing tools I haven't touched in years. To be fair though, I'm knocking dust off most of these supplies. Oil paint is my favorite medium. I work in it almost exclusively when I'm making art.
The things I forgot include my travel easel and a drop cloth. I'll figure out what to do about both of those issues. My cranky neck has needs and voices them often, so I'm going to have to rig some kind of ergonomic something. My husband is understandably protective of our floors, so I'll be scavenging through a closet for alternatives to a drop cloth.
In the meantime, I have this digital cartoon wonderland! And today, it was full of glitches. But I digress.
I started out today in the blue dress because I got a call from the physical therapist to make sure my body parts were still where they left them. They also asked after my non-physical well-being. I wasn't kidding about the clinical depression the other day. So! Blue for the science officers! (I'm a Star Trek nerd.) The medics! The nurses! The therapists! The doctors! The support staff! And all the people whose job titles I may never learn or haven't remembered in this instant! Thanks. We totally need you. We don't even fully understand how much.
On the front of my electric blue dress, is a sparkly spider brooch that I inherited from one of my great grandmothers. The spider is to remind me to take things slowly, one step at a time. Some of these tiny creatures make huge (compared to them), intricate masterpieces of purpose. If they don't get overwhelmed by making their home/kitchen/art with nothing but the tools nature gave them, then I see fit to use them as role models. I hope they don't mind.