Winter is a time when things move slowly here, and false starts are seemly inevitable. Yesterday it was warm enough to have a picnic lunch without even a coat, and tomorrow is slated to be 20 below freezing. The plants are in a constant flux of start and stop, and I feel that too. The daylight hours are short, the urge to hibernate is strong. But within myself and in the landscape, things are changing and growing when they can. The buds are on the trees, the garlic is attempting to peak through the mulch, and one small step at a time... I'm putting myself out there.
Painting with watercolour in this sketchbook isn't ideal, the pulp paper is thin and it buckles under the pressure, but the way paint sits on it is so different to a proper cotton sheet. It allows for unrestrained expression and many many iterations. Even through these half remembered 2 minute landscapes there is much to be learned.
I guess the moral of this story is that things don't have to be perfect, if you are waiting for conditions to be right, you might be waiting a long time. Do what you can, when you can with whats available. The future never comes, life is always now.
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