In retrospect: It was the 9th of December, I remember it vaguely. I think it rained. Possibly. I hauled my things out to the loft, placed the pink "path of least resistance" on the easel, and loaded the palette knife with some luscious hot pink paint.
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At some point, I grew bored or things came to a temporary conclusion. I couldn't think of anything to do, so I wandered down the shed and finished constructing some canvas frames. By evening I was stretching canvas and had 3 of them finished, each measuring 80cm x 120cm. There is nothing quite like the purity of a fresh blank canvas...
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...to strike fear into the fragile artist's psyche.