I tried to pick evening colors since she was reading the paper as the sun set and painted an evening hue into the trees behind the house.
As I finished up the watercolor wash I realized I was drawing Lazy Sunday on the Saturday journal page. Rats. I hate that when that happens. I get so involved in the sketch I forget where I am. I'm sure that doesn't happen to other sketchers.
After my right brain finished the sketch, my left brain began to analyze the page. It found stuff like:
I like the arm bleeding out of the page but I don't like the border line going through it. I should have done the border AFTER the picture.
I should have sketched on the correct journal day.
I forgot to put "evening" on the sketch. That meant I had to add it scrunched up. It's so small it's hard to read.
But then, the journal page is only an exercise. It's for relaxing. It's for experiments.
It doesn't hide the imperfections.
It's real. And I like that.
I plead contemporary insanity.