It’s easier to paint with a messed up hand than it is to type or write. Looking at my drawing / painting of yesterday, this morning I decided to paint it, no lines, no preliminary whatevers – just a direct paint, working wet and dry.
Back to work with a messed up wrist . . . wasn’t bad. After work, the sun was still out. In our yard, we have a beautiful vase-shaped crepe myrtle tree. It is sending out the first leaves of the season. I sketched this at sunset, trying to catch the complex interweaving of the branches and the delicate greens of the baby leaves at the tips of the smallest branches.