Happy Place

There are many lessons that I have learned in my life.  One of them is not to bother calling the hotel you just checked out of from the airport asking for the Prada sunglasses you left in your room.  Your Prada sunglasses are gone.  Get over it and move on.

But this blog post has nothing to do with life lessons or Prada sunglasses.

I've been painting outdoors recently.  Outdoors in the bright bright light, where bugs and fuzzy plant matter land on my acrylic paints as I drink Diet Coke so watered down by melting ice cubes that it tastes like nothing.  Painting outside, although charming, comes with its challenges.  One must squint one's eyes in order to see what one is painting. One ends up being blinded by the reflection of the light off of one's painting.  And one ends up looking like an artsy Clint Eastwood armed with a paintbrush and some cadmium red in a tube.

One misses her Prada sunglasses.

Anyway, I'm completely enjoying painting outdoors.  So much so that it's become my newest happy place.