I can’t throw them away. How can I?
I’m keeping them. They are awful. If I discard them now, how I’m going to know how far I’ve progressed in my efforts? It has only been a month, and yet it seems a life time. Even children are far better than me in it. They automatically know what to do. I wish I had started earlier in my endeavors. I would have got a lot better than the snail pace I’m going through.
I’ll be going to juxtapose. That will definitely show my progress.
Dear readers you must be mystified as to what I’m really doing? I’m trying to dab in water colors. I never knew dealing with brushes would be so hard for me. I used to think it would be easy. It isn’t! First of all, I definitely know they have a mind of their own. How can it be? Aren’t they inert creatures? They are, but in my hands they behave differently.
A single stroke of color, and everything goes wrong. It’s disheartening. Trying to persevere I try again. I have found Son highly supportable. He thinks maybe a time comes his mother’s efforts bear fruit, and her paintings might fetch large sums. I’ve told him it’s unlikely in the near future, and in the far away future too. I know, because I stand at the lowest rung of the ladder, and it will be years before I’m satisfied as to what I paint.
Do you know that Van Gogh didn’t sell a single painting in his life. He went crazy, and killed himself. Isn’t it an irony but one of his painting sold for $81.3 million in November 2017.
Van Gogh’s 1889 landscape, “Laboureur dans un champ” Source: Christie’s.
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