Winter in Hotham Park, again, stage 3

There comes a time with a painting that one really wishes it was finished but there stretches ahead a tundra of sheer plod which goes on until the end is finally reached. I think that is why I have restrain myself from hitting the well-meaning person who says, “It’s so relaxing, it must be nice to do that all day.” Perhaps I’m being unfair in reading into the  statement that the person doesn’t see it being work at all  but just one joyful round of useless play. Well, I do admit that I think I’m fortunate to have a husband who tolerates me spending hundreds of pounds on art materials and putting up with minimal housework and hastily prepared meals for very little return in proportion to the hours  and cash spent. On the whole  if money was the only  object I would be better off working in Tesco, a real job! Sorry just felt like a rant. Stage 3 and no end in sight yet, but I will plod on .


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