I was in evil Suzy's class this week. In honour of the new oriental exhibit at the museum she brought in a Russian teapot and Russian slippers. None of us said a word except the Russian student who was pretty sure it wasn't of Chinese origin. Doesn't matter - I had such a blast - the paint just flew from my brush onto the canvas and the floor.
And I felt real joy. What a moment not to worry about the final outcome and just enjoy the process. It must be the oriental influence - it was zen.
It is too bad because I can't paint in my studio for 2 weeks. I would have liked to continue this mood
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