May 2020 Oil on Panel

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Entry for this piece on my Corona Journal

20-05-01 Lost Lake Last Light Oil on Panel 9 x 24 inches May Day. Storm cleared through and the sun came out late. Started three different ideas on same panel.  Couldn’t settle.  Had made terrible mistake of looking at George Inness landscapes while searching for a book for sister Jean.  Three great ones from her shelf arrived today.  I literally picked up the easel and turned it around, scraped off and started again three times!  Of course ran out of time and light on the last one. Stayed with it.  As I was problem solving I forgot how utterly insufficient it was going to be.  I was in my zone. Yay.  News and conversations were like that too.  Positive, negative, unsettled.  180 degree different perspectives on many fronts but many points of intense focus. Intense news. One can spin the dial and hear a convincing doomsday scenario or go all the way to a delightful new viral fairy tale called “The Great Realisation”.  I want to believe in that one - is already my narrative.  Optimistic gene pool.   Day started with group of amazing women leaders in Boston who deserve a whole journal. Short version: they make the right stuff happen. I miss being in the middle of that. Still I worked hard today and made some yardage. Mostly had Corona brain. On my way out the door to paint the UPS guy was just arriving.  Lovely conversation.  He sees too many people glued to their TVs and it worries him.  Believes it’s unhealthy to spend that much time absorbing bad news.  They should go outside or do something else.  But he is fine.  Has a good route.  Doesn’t feel threatened.  Hiked home in the dark while zooming with the kids but I had to disconnect because the peepers were so loud!  Also the trail was uncertain, muddy, treacherous and my battery was low.  I generally intend not to put myself harm’s way but forget that when I’m not ready to wrap a painting. Called in once safely back at the car. Oh and not to worry, Trump says our testing is “the best”.  I wonder if he really believes his stuff and lives in his own dystopic & insane but rose-colored fairy tale?