water/color

Mellow Sunday evening.  Breezes blowing through the living room, rustling leaves, lifting edges of paper.  A siren in the distance.  All day too hot and bright until we sat in the shade with his paints and looked out at the mountians.  He makes it look easy, with the water and the brush, but I know he's practiced this many many times.  A man is in the park with a folding wooden table, his laptop, and some weed.  He offers us some, but we decline.  We are thinking about color and shadow and line.  Ants crawl across our unfinished paintings that we've set down to dry.  Spiders, ladybugs, strange wormy things--this park is full of bugs.  But we're not interested in tiny details.  The horizon is what we're after, the subtle change from blue to gray to green, that which is far and that which is beyond seeing.

Comments

[Phil]

You didn't mention how well your painting turned out!

Ms. Nina did one of the more difficult things pretty naturally: taking it slow and not ruining the work by over-futzing.

What a lovely way to experience an afternoon!

The programmer/stoner kept piping up with things like "I just made a random line on my computer. You guys don't know how rare that is."

To his credit, he didn't make one comparison between all the insects and computer bugs.