Not shaking the grass

The news from Hepworth Towers is that I am still obsessed with grasses.

This is my latest painting, inspired by that Ezra Pound poem I keep putting on here...

And the days are not full enough

And the nights are not full enough

And life slips by like a field mouse

                      Not shaking the grass.

Ezra Pound

Acrylic on canvas board 59x42 cms.

And I've been enjoying looking at the book of the latest Hockney exhibition, The Arrival of Spring, which my dear friend Het gave me. Hockney painted all the pictures on his iPad, and it inspired me to buy a painting app for myself. 

I'd already painted this turquoise and white background on canvas below, and couldn't decide how to develop it, so I imported a photo of it into Procreate and have spent a happy hour in bed this morning, playing with colours to learn how the program works, and to see if I can decide where to take the painting.

It beats reading the news. I've been completely focussed, and the free floating anxiety due to the collapse of this septic isle completely disappeared.

Neither is right, but it's a work in progress.

Het said to me, yesterday: 'You're prolific.'

Me: 'I need to keep painting. Then I don't have to clean the bedroom.'

The only other thing to report is that it was back to olden times here last evening. During lockdown Chrissie and I would have drinks and nibbles on Facetime, and last night we did it again because we live six miles apart and we're both saving petrol for upcoming trips. 

I hope you're all staying saner than me in these disturbing times.