I started this painting 5 or so years ago; an old profile picture shows me sitting under the tree in my front yard, wearing a long cotton prairie dress, meticulously drawing.

(I had to ask someone to come out and take the photo, which makes it a recreation of a spontaneous moment, but I love it all the same, especially the headphones hanging around my neck.)

I've never been one for great patience when painting. I like abstract work, or portraits, sure, but when it comes to taking the time to add all sorts of details, my eyes begin to cross. It all sounds like so much work, and I'm just here to have fun.

Except I love paintings with detail! Maybe not the perfect replications of real life, but pieces where care was taken. My journal pages gain detail through being carried with me everywhere, and my habit to pull it and some markers out on days when I don't have much energy. Stuck, I can't help by keep making marks, adding one atop another, finding depth. But paintings are a bit too big to do that with!

And as I started inking this flower from the past, I realized I wanted to spend more time on it in order to make it right. Create the true vision in my head. I may have just fallen in love with big brushes and under painting, but I'm more importantly giving my work more respect from the person who matters most -- me.