A gloomy day to paint pretty pictures.

The sun was shining so I hauled my mom's tripod, all my paint, brushes, armful of canvas, and folding chair down to Lake Ontario. By the time I reached my painting spot the sky had clouded over and all you could see was the skanky skyline that was hazy from Toronto's pollution-spew. But, being the optimist that I am, I gave the sky the metaphorical finger and painted the dull landscape for a couple hours anyway.


I even used water from the lake to wash my brushes and keep my paint wet. Does that increase the value of the painting? Heh. This took two hours. It obviously isn't done, but I was cold and tired so I left before I finished. Right when I started an old couple came by and the lady noted it was chilly to be painting out, I agreed and laughed. She said I must be a strong woman before they moved on. After that I felt like I could paint forever.

One hour was occupied by birdsong and lake sounds, the other was mostly the soundtrack of some drunk bottle-collector telling me his life story. I found both motivational but the latter left a sad taste in my mouth because when he discussed his life before where he came to be I was reminded of some close friends. He enjoyed traveling. He loved music history and worked in a music store that catered to people who took music beyond the interests of HMV... now he's collecting bottles and struggling with loans.

In other news: I sneezed into my hand this morning and found I threw an incredible amount of loogie into my palm; the most I've ever managed to sneeze up before. I also looked up storage facilities in Oakville for my stuff I want to keep here and there's only one, it's pricey. My good buddy Rory awesomely offered a corner in his basement. Thus I am a happy little bunny.