It's full moon Thursday. Which means I've been up since 3 a.m. Because the moon wants me to get up and play with her instead of sleeping restfully. And who am I to argue with the moon? So this little pink-haired sweetie fairly leapt off the palette this morning, sleepy headed and still dreaming of snow flurries. Her wistful countenance makes me smile.
What is it about silent snowfall that is so magical? Is it the muffled crunch of my boots as I break through the crusty top layer? Is it the hush of huge, soft snowflakes gently falling like sleeping fairies onto eyelashes and noses? And why am I contemplating snow in April in south Florida? I blame a dear friend who sent me photos of Colorado snow last week. Those images have lingered like the wobbly outlines of a snowman past his prime, one eye slipping down his cheek during the inevitable melt.
"Flurried Dreams" - mixed media on canvas paper, 12" x 16". Ready for framing.
acrylic, charcoal, ephemera on canvas paper
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