How is today different from yesterday? It’s still too hot to go out until the relative cool of evening. I am struggling with ennui (could it be tropical?) and determined not to take my bad mood out on my husband, because he doesn’t deserve that.
I look for inspiration in my living room. From my armchair, I can see five layers. I think this is what artists mean by perspective. I am self-taught and primitive or naive, so I am just guessing.
In the furthest background is the white block of flats opposite our own white block. Then come the plants on my balcony. On the table, you can see my geranium and my tuberose, shooting out its first headily fragrant flower.
In the middle distance is my balcony chair, covered with a striped Egyptian cloth. Then comes the window, suggested by the wafty blue and white curtain.
In front of that is my dark blue velvet armchair, draped with an Indian shawl. The red book on the seat is “The Myth of Normal” by Gabor Maté but I am learning not to overload pictures with too much detail.
In the foreground is my bed, with crisp striped bedding and an overheated cat. Friends on Facebook ask if I have a new cat. Sadly, no. This is just a memory of a cat.
The picture on the wall is of Vitaly and me on an autumn day. I like to paint pictures within pictures. Here is the picture itself:
That was done some time ago with acrylic paints. Now I am enjoying doing more delicate sketches with watercolour pencils. I draw with the pencils and then wet the picture to give a watercolour effect.
Here is my kitchen table top:
It has the bottles and fruits you would expect from a still life. But I think the thing I like best about it is that I manage to capture the wood of the work surface. The coffee pot is half full because I have poured the coffee into my Filey mug. The other mug on the top shelf is another example of a picture within a picture. Here is the picture itself, painted a long time ago and called Orange Revolution: