Sat on the loveseat in the dining room nook after lunch, February sun kissing the back of my head, and played with pens and wax pastels.
What started earlier this week as fingerprints of paint on manila stock metamorphosed this afternoon. That little river of doodles crossing the page holds the story of a cake's baking, a dad's dozing, a daughter's losing herself in the flow of one moment and another moment and another.
All is well.
4x5", acrylic, ink, and wax pastel on manila stock
[not for sale]