I could
not get to sleep last night. I rolled around in frustration until about 3 a.m. and finally just got up. I fixed myself some tea and painted until 4:30 a.m. At that point my right hand was covered with red paint and my left had dried residue of molding paste clinging to it. I suddenly felt like I could fall over. And even though thoughts such as, "it probably isn't the best thing to have those pigments and compounds seeping into your system," ran through my mind, I headed straight to bed.
I must say, I was a little frightened when I woke up at 7 a.m. and saw my crimson paw, but I was also relieved to know I wasn't in a Hollywood bed scene in the
"Godfather." Suffice it to say, I had a v-e-r-y long day.
And...even though I was super tired, I did manage to make a quick visit to the grand opening of the White Trash Gallery by White Trash Peg, Et. al. Here's some snaps.
Me as I head out the door.
Cute, blurry photographer.
Old piece of candy cane that fell out of my coat pocket--first time I wore this since last winter. A gruesome piece of stickiness that would make a great painting, of course. (-;
Tigger as purse.