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I'm trying to make the most of this gorgeous warm unseasonal weather we have, and paint as much as I can. The lilacs are currently in full bloom, so I arranged a very simple still life with some of them. Lilacs are hard to paint, as they consist of many tiny flowers on one main stem. 

This day was extra windy, and it lifted the lilacs right out of the vase and scattered them on the table. After the fifth time, I put a stone at the top of the vase at the back of it, in order to keep the flowers in place:

Whatever works is a good solution.

I was slapping on the pastel dust, trying to keep up with the sun. My thoughts as I painted were "this will never work, it will look unreal". When I brought it indoors, I was surprised at how "lilac-y" it looked. Surprised, even though I know intellectually that the outline of a tree, or a flower, does tell most of the story. But as I tend towards lovingly rendering detail, this quick painting felt unfinished.

Painting is both heart and brain. Sometimes they don't agree. I've noticed that emotion is often more right than the critical verbal brain which nags and complains.

When painting, the artist is close to the painting. I had forgotten to step way back and see the painting as a whole. Instead I saw details, parts and bits of it:

Lesson re-learned: Step back and view the whole painting -- often!