There's nothing like pastels on the patio to sooth the soul. I was still too distraught to paint seriously in the studio. I was too distraught to stay indoors while the sun was shining life, the thermometer read eighty three and everything was sprouting up green in the garden. Blogger had made me crazy, but I wasn't crazy enough to miss the day. I took my pastels, the very box I had from some graphic art course, a pad of Strathmore and set up shop on the deck's teak table. Plein Air would be my agenda. Serenity was all around, but not in the woods. While spots of green were dotted about promising, the trees were still skeletons dressed in winter drab. I could see the lake, a good thing for some, a bad thing for me who celebrates the growing season. The scene suggested harsh gestures, out of place in the balmy climate, but I responded to my observation. Nothing much came from the truth.
On my second pass, I tried to make the painting look as I felt. I kept adding,and adding, till one more layer of chalk would block the sun and plummet my spirit. It was then that I like it.