The air was cool and damp, the night was clear and many stars filled the sky. Now my hands are stiff, almost numb, my legs are cramping and my back hurts. So many hours and days of doing nothing but painting are taking their toll on me and now I’m just a physical wreck. On the up side, paint is flowing and my color combs are working great. I so lose myself in the wet of the paint that I just don’t know where the time goes. I’m transformed to a place and time where I feel the sand, the air, the sounds, the very scent. I am the paint, it calls me, moves me, fills me and consumes me.
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