Artmaking slow. Very very slow. Mostly because last night I didn’t start until 11:45 pm. That’s a late start. But I wasn’t willing to do nothing artful yesterday. And sleeping is an issue. Ugh. Brain needs to turn off or down or go in relax mode. Don’t even ask when I’m going to bed. I’m fully aware it’s too late.
I did do another 3 or 4 hours in the garage during the day. Most of the stuff is packed up for the thrift shop, we researched CraigsList for prices on the furniture we’ve got, and I got most of the art shelves in the garage cleaned up. Boychild did the toolbench, which was a disaster. There’s art files left and then getting rid of stuff, which is always the hard part. But it’s progress…getting close to working on what’s IN the house.
We also did a picnic in the park and then Richard II, so it’s not like I was home a lot in the evening…
Not a real dead body. I’m not really a fan of Shakespeare’s histories, but there were some funny moments. I did persuade the ex to switch seats with me because the old guy next to me was like constantly in my personal space. Less likely to do that to another man, apparently, because he behaved after that.
I’m reminded that Balboa Park is a nice place to be on a summer evening, something I rarely remember.
Girlchild only came home for the furries.
Found this while cleaning out the garage. Apparently art is painful. Or terrifying. One of those.
I did not finish tracing last night…I’m in the 1100s…so about 200 pieces to go still. And this afternoon and evening are packed, unfortunately. Ugh. I didn’t even take a picture of what I was tracing…mostly buildings and windows.
I’m certainly not getting anything done sitting here. So I’m off. Short but…well…not sweet.
*The Wallflowers, One Headlight