The final stroke
Last night I found this great lakeside spot with a fresh gentle breeze. The sparkling city lights were dancing across the ripples on the water, 
so, after setting up, the first outdoor painting of the year began.
Just after covering the white of the paper, one small brushstroke completely change my plans.
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Last week’s lovely 20°C weather had me practically bouncing like a little kid on their birthday, waiting to get outside and paint in nature again. You know what its like when you just cant wait to do something any longer right? Well, it wasn't 20 degrees anymore. I had planned ahead for the cold and made sure my paint and water wouldn't freeze.
Then as i made the first stroke, my jacket sleeve caught on my paintbrushes, and soaked icy water all over my leg and shoes. Brrr! I've never been more grateful for owning waterproof shoes. No wet feet was wonderful. Forgetting spare clothes? Not so much. Oops! At -3°C plus windchill, continuing the painting without getting chilled just wasn't going to happen. So I packed everything in. it The plein air painti g may have ended almost as soo. As it began, but the evening certainly wasn't wasted. The lights on the lake, the cold air, the dark water and that very memorabl4final brushstroke are all coming back to the studio with me. Sometimes a painting starts outdoors and finishes somewhere completely different. Bye for now, Leeann
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