I like this kind of a lot.

I have been a bit crabbier than normal this week. No real reason, particularly as the weather has been lovely and springular. My treatment for boredom and curmudgeonliness: spend time with people and make stuff. I had three separate dinner dates with friends and the téte a tétes helped a lot. I also filled a number of pages in my journal and, though the paintings reflected my mood, they helped to lift it too.

Focussing on details helps to overload my head and force my Critic into a back corner where his voice is muffled. Here’s what I have been looking at.

Dip pens, pencils, and watercolor detritus on my desk. I am mixing dozens of new shades of pink.I am mixing dozens of new shades of pink.
I am mixing dozens of new shades of pink.
Good news arrived in the mail today. Jack's summer plans are set.
The illusion of organization. Well, that's a little unfair. I do have a pretty sweet setup in my studio though I have to remind myself to use all these supplies before they dry out.
I have a few shelves of filled-up sketchbooks. They are my favorite possessions.
This is my Patti shrine. It's in my studio and I confer with it when I need help. She always has good advice.
A detail from my new book. Dip pen, sum-i ink and the vaguest hint of watercolor.
I think this flower painting is a bust. It started out trying to be super delicate, then I got frustrated and piled on too much color.
A detail from another frustrated page. Eventually I figured out how not to hate it.
Another version of the previous painting. I am starting to be okay with this one.
A detail of a Patti portrait from the book.
Patti as a pup. I find it hard to believe I painted this.
This is my favorite P portrait so far. It feels like her.
My old hound, Francis Albert Gregory.
I like this kind of a lot.
This is cartoony but it feels like her. She had a longer neck than she would acknowledge.
Pregnant Patti portrait.
I like the way Joe looks here, nice and sausage-y.
This is another painiting that seems to have been guided from outside me. I really like it but am not sure how I made it.
Crap in my studio. I like the colors.
A tiny detail of a big page. I made this lady I was working with far prettier than she really is. Now I remember her as the painting, not as she actually looks.
I drew this bottle and glass from memory even though the real things were sitting right on front of me. Not a good habit.
This is what it's like to hold my tiny hound, Tim.
Pink Patti, the taxidermied squirrel.
Doodly drawings of dead people.
More self-deprecation, The Critic escapes from his cell.
I like this dude's 'tude.
More dead men not walking,
Me feeling crabby and old.
I like this gloominess. It's a tiny detail of a reflection of me in the background of a big crowded drawing,
My home. Calligraphy done in thick gloppy white ink with a clogged pen.
Peewee and some art inspiration.
More shelves in my biblioteque.
The top of Patti's desk including Pink Patti, the taxidermied squirrel.
Some really ancient journals from my extensive collection of crap.