A Few More Drops of Rain.

Ah, rain, you are my oldest and dearest friend.
I love that our gutters are broken. Hours after a downpour I can still hear the dripping from the roof to the grass. It helps me to concentrate. And to breath. And, when I'm lucky, to create. Not that I've been sketching up anything tonight. Last night, though, was more productive:


Little gouachey works in progress. Maybe I'll finish them, maybe I'll move on. The point is, I painted. Aside from maybe a few birthday cards and some polymer sculptures I'm not even sure I've touched a paintbrush this year.
It feels good to be back.