A painting in progress. My poinsettia finally yielded a few perfectly curled leaves--and they were green! I collected them and the rest of what had fallen off my neglected plant and fell in love with the colors.That red is Tompte Red, with a little alizarin crimson. The amazingly delicate undersides of petals, pinkish, greenish, pale--a flesh for poetry. The dark, dry purples of the deadest leaves are little exclamations, and the whole writhes and thrusts as never in real life. Everything is roughly blocked in. The wonderful thing is that I can see this painting finished--all those sexy little details that will lend emphasis and clarity. The danger is that maybe now I won't have to finish it?

One of the forgiving benefits of working on the wall is that scale can be adjusted. This canvas started out about 44 x 34, but I had to shave some inches from the top in order for the proportions to please. Might lose an inch or two on the sides as well. This is what I think about when I'm working, and, of course, whether stretcher bars come in the size I need. Do you know that 26" stretcher bars are scarcer than hens" teeth? That is an art-i-fact.