Greetings, earthlings. I am writing today from the orange atmosphere of Mars, where my floating space pod landed overnight after being transported here without my permission.
A challenge to paint today from my kitchen countertop, as I am dependent on sunlight unfiltered through thousands of feet of smoke plumes from all over the west. Kitchen lights had to do, and if I ever see blue sky in the future (something I’ll never take for granted again, ever) I will see how this painting looks in normal light. But I took a photo of these softly-lit, feminine, pink lilies last week from the walkway near my marina before armageddon had completely arrived. Lilies always make me think of Easter. And I’m hoping somehow there will be a resurrection of life here in the west where we aren’t on fire all the way up to Canada. I’m almost convinced it’s a conspiracy of orange — orange air, orange idiot in the white house. A Fanta conspiracy? It’s dreadful and frightening, of course. This morning I thought I’d misread my clocks as it was still dark outside long after the sun was supposed to show up. I thought about staying in bed all day, truly. I spent an hour cleaning a layer of ash off every surface in my bathroom, and the window was only open a few inches; you can see a layer of ash on top of the water in the estuary outside. Feels like a freak show, yet I am grateful for having shelter and food and safety. My hope is that things are so bad world leaders will start taking these catastrophes seriously. Please, everyone, vote. And thank you for joining the ping-ponging trip through my brain today.
7.5″ x 7.5″ watercolor, pen on paper = $75