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    "At least you have your Art," she said to me, as if Art was the next pillow down, awaiting my murmured intimacies. No such luck. Art is a fickle companion, as capricious as Mr. Simon's Cecilia, coming and going as often as I change my socks.  Art offers no comfort, no indeed, and he won't be dismissed, always waiting to get in the last word. He does like to wrestle tho', and I'm always game, despite the knowledge that the most I can hope for is a draw. No shame in being bested by the master. 

   And so it is the relief appears in the form of Mr. Lamb's rooster, who is a very handsome rooster indeed. Not only that- I had a lot of fun painting him!  No content here, no meaning, no color experiment, no exercise- just a wholly non-motivated response to my daily world, painting just for the heck of it.  Simply Mr. Lamb's rooster. For delight.

    Since I've moved to the Shore, I've also been painting sunrises, and sunsets, the marshes and the fields- I walk around gobsmacked by just how incredibly lovely it all is and just as I've said a thousand times: you don't really see something until you draw it and I'll extend the same sentiment to painting.  I guess that makes it Art, but the guilty pleasure of it makes me a tad suspicious.  Feel free to chime in here-