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.
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...
...to strike fear into the fragile artist's psyche.
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