Hot Light

The sun pounds through the glass, pierces the shadows and obliterates any cool thoughts in ones blood...




...in the air of many fans I paint anyways, piling the brush strokes towards the emotional pitch I can taste in my flesh but not explain with my tongue.





Meanwhile Feather curls and melts into the sheets on the massage table...

flower, music & creek

Blooming on the window sill: the extravagant passion flower like a cross between a helicopter and an alien fairy.

...and then the music choices of the day for painting accoutrement:
(you can actually read them if you click on the image)




..and the image in progress: