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Creativity confined to Barracks



Now, with most of my studio, well my entire studio safely packed away awaiting a new destination I have had to confine my artistic endeavors to sketching.

The sketchbook I have is a nice. A thick red hard covered affair which makes me look good – always an added bonus. But the scribblings within are not the stuff for posterity. More like the idle scratchings of a mind running on empty. Matters were not helped when I procured a packet of markers from the local pound shop.

I felt a daub of colour would lift my doodlings into another dimension. The markers, cheap and nasty, did not help. The only succeeded in bleeding through the page, so that now, I am obliged to skip each following page if I wish to make a fresh start.

What’s that about the workman blaming his tools? I know, but this is a period of transition, part and parcel of which is an open license to moan.

Dumping a lot of old congealed paint pots gave me a welcome lift, so still buoyed up by that feeling I will give the markers a second chance.

Journey not destination. We will have to wait and see about that.

Still fresh starts make for fresh paintings but good ones never loose their freshness.

Happy Wednesday.

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