Freezing, Filthy Butterfly

I finally made it back to the studio. It was freezing and filthy. The air was artic. The sink was full of little dishes and larger palettes. The drain was totally closed with dried acrylics. And all the mixed colors in the closed wet-palettes had dried unusable. I rolled up my sleeves and went to work proceeding to get my doc's coat soaking wet--too wet to wear for some real painting. I hung it to dry and retreated to my much warmer watercolor station (bar) and worked on Mom and Teenager, the one I started on canvas board. The session went very well--well enough that I will continue with this preliminary sketch. (Doesn't look like much yet, but I'm going slow on my perhaps overly ambitious second portrait painting).


I was very pleased to discover that washable markers become set and non-washable when left to dry for an extended period of time. I didn't have to worry about those lines at all later on when I applied the acrylics. They would not mix in nor pick up; and I would definitely have a strong ghost drawing. The session ended when the marker died. I went up and out into the heat to water my parched garden.

Where I found a butterfly I've never seen before on the Butterfly bush I was thinking of ripping out:





Frustrated I had been unable to catch the insect full spread with her back to me, I fussed with my camera and Honey last night seeing if my Minolta even took continuous shots. It does. And now I have a series of pics of Honey flexing his fingers--particularly his middle one.