Painting Whilst There's Nothing Between Me And The World But An Old Creaking Screen Door

I'm writing this blog post stolen from the wee hours of half past three in the morning. 

Once upon a time, in my little one-horse town of Brooksville, you'd be capable of walking anywhere a house dwelt; walk right up to a porch, and there would be nothing but an unlocked old screen door keeping you from your neighbours. There were no detained doors or ceiled shut windows with heavily draped window treatments. So you knew ole' Ms Sady was frying chicken, or you'd smell freshly baked apple pie scents from the window sill following the dirt road. 

It also reminds me that I began pondering on Tasha Tudor and her artistry workspace as early as two weeks ago. She vowed by a large wooden table in front of a window in her kitchen which she said tale it reminded her of a tiny chipmunk's nest. As I was grappling with a 'feel' I was desperate to gain whilst painting illustrations for my little storybooks (most especially The Tale of the Christmas Bunnies), I felt such a lack of reasonable provocation. So I had to think of a solution. I began moving about tables and furnishings from one corner to the next in my folk's cottage, where I once had my artistry materials. I then moved things back and forth from Scarlette Rose to the main house, and in the midst of this, my temperamental frustration began to build. For an artist, environmental surroundings are of utmost significance. Then one day, I had the idea from my girlhood to pack a basket of my particulars and go outside and sit on the garden lawn to paint. That notion inspired me to place my painting desk right in front of the open double doors of Scarlette Rose cottage. I've never been more inspired to paint since that day, so I plod onward. Each morning the first thing in my diary is to see my beloved husband off to work. I perform my daily tidings and domesticated achievements and then stroll out to Scarlette Rose cottage for the day. I have been saving up for a big beautiful wooden cook stove (rather than the one currently in the house), and I also have my eyes peeled for a Victorian toilet. Initially, I was plotting to turn to a modern commode and build around it to feature an outhouse; however, upon hefty thinking, I would rather keep on with the cottage's appeal of the Victorian era.

My blog has plenty going on, it's true I am opinionated, and my views pop out here, there and everywhere; I remain devoted to sharing on my blog, although most believe that blogs are a thing of the past. I suppose that is very on-brand for me, then. I, heretofore, solemnly make an oath I plan to stay sat and write for as long as you'll have me and enjoy my musings. 

Did you listen to my last video on ye olde youtube of my big announcement? 

Most affably yours til my next swim, Lady Raquelxxx