True it is entirely dull work but I am really enjoying the process. And it is true that I could listen to music, podcast or audio book to help pass the moments. It would be a shame to not indulge in the quietness though.
|Fence stain in progress...changing from 'volcanic red' to a less jarring hue|
While methodically dipping and rolling thoughts of colours flit in. When we are children we are adamant that our favourite hue is the best. My mum was like a bower bird; drawn to all shades of blue. My sister is fond of yellows and lemons. If I were to pick a favourite colour it would be a struggle...you see I seem to like different colours depending on the circumstances.
Warm tones of orange are my favourite for scarves and shoes, of course this may come from my fondness of all things fox. I am certain that I wouldn't want to paint a room a shade of tangerine though.
I love greens; soft mossy shades in the garden and nature. Cool and calming. But no so much in my home. Bright red, cherry pops of happy are dotted throughout the kitchen but don't feature in the bedroom or bathroom. Odd isn't it?! Gosh I'm sure that this is true of others too....not having a beloved colour but a few. Fascinating that particular colours resonate more deeply than others to each of us.
|The softest pink and the brightest blue|
My thoughts trail from thoughts such as these to the more mundane of 'what to cook for dinner' and the like. Frequently my musings turn to dreaming and planning. Imagining our home and surrounds when we move to a rural area one day. Of fruit trees and strawberries, of shady trees with benches beneath, of a cosy home at the end of a long, winding driveway.
So with stained nails and tired arms I return to my painting as often as I am able. The wood turns dark and my mind can ramble.