Notes from an Easel-Part 63-Kiss of Death.

Found my second wind today, and spent the afternoon in the seclusion of my studio, working up a new skull piece. I've wanted to put the stark white of bone against a blood crimson background for a while-it has a Valentines chocolate box appeal I guess, so I'm calling it 'the Kiss of Death.'
However, three days in, and I've been neglecting my daily sketch, although preparations have been so frantic, I've barely been able to doodle on a post-it.Suffice to say that they shall be reinstated tomorrow.

Here is a picture of my cat Ronin then, looking like butter wouldn't melt in his maw. Would you believe that this is the same cat who terrorizes his sister Pepper, steals my brushes, walks on my wet canvases and laid a sloppy stank egg on my rug yesterday morning? Snow white demon from Hades on cocaine.


Speaking of lethal white powders, I am told that my hometown is currently in the grip of a suffocating blanket of ice, not felt since the bitter winter of 81.
Undeterred, my heavily pregnant daughter-Emma-, trekked an hour through the tundra to her art college to discover it closed before walking back. It alarmed me terribly when I found out, but that's the kind of tenacity and determination that little girl is made of-she reminds me so much of myself, and I am incredibly proud.

Tomorrow I ought to be able to complete the new piece, before the weekend and our next stop at the Hive in LA.