Those who read my recent series of posts about using watercolor palettes may remember that I did not recommend this type – with wells in the cover and base – BECAUSE the dried paint falls out . . .
Toward evening on March 17, Dear Me showed up in the garden room studio and reminded me that it was St. Patrick’s Day, and that, while she sported a green hair bow
Once upon a time, (Spring 2001, actually), in a Walmart faraway, two women wrestled over a swing in the Garden Department – the LAST swing as it were . . .
Although I have certainly been in this position a number of times in my life, I have never illustrated it until now . . .