I had every intention this morning of trying something different. Maybe there would be some other craft that I needed to explore. Let's see how that went.
First, I got all of my sewing supplies out. I found some shiny, iridescent fabric. I was ready to make some groovy little hand bags. The sewing machine thought it was a good time to create string hair balls. Not cool.
Second, here comes the clay. It was pretty enjoyable making tiny stone benches, vines, bird baths, gazing balls and such for a fairy/gnome garden. Took way too long and not as exciting as I had hoped with "Yep, that's nice." results.
Third, I had some mugs, plates and tiles out to create something with the china paint I have. After the other projects tackled, this appeared to be a bigger task than I wanted to take on. The results can be unpredictable and I would need to clear off, clean out and fire up the kiln. Whew!
So, the feeling I got when I put everything away and stared at that basket of paint in front of me was pure relief. I had proven that I didn't need to be messing with anything else right now except paint. I'd wandered off the path, but it didn't take long to find it again. I grabbed a large sheet of watercolor paper, taped it to the wall and I was ready. The music played, the incense burned and my hands were emerged in paint. I was up on my feet bouncing around. (I hadn't realized that was missing in my other projects.)
It didn't take long for this angel to appear. The blue moon and swirling water (more to that than I feel like analyzing now) came first. Then, to my surprise, a male figure formed. I can't recall painting a man, especially through intuitive painting. This became my first male angel. I think he's pretty swell.
