Pink flamingo sketch

For a time this year, I thought, what is the point of drawing and painting when a moment can be captured in a photograph?

More recently, I decided I wanted to create, to paint but what? What is it that brings me joy? Typing this stream of thoughts, of words, I believed would help.

My ego demanded without ego. Whatever that meant.

What to include? A grand plan to capture heart, body, and soul.

Pencil sketches of a partly used up tube of watercolour paint were completed. An analogy of a point in my life. This subject did not progress even though I could see it completed in my mind’s eye.

During a mindless scrolling session in Pinterest, a portrait of a pink flamingo caught my eye. That might be it!

The first hurdle was to rouse myself to search out supplies. Packed away for four years since moving house.

Weekends passed.

My husband took control; during your birthday week, on Friday 21st October you shall paint!

On the day before, car partially reversed from the garage, we rootled through cupboards, boxes, at last: watercolour pencils, bought awhile ago in Port Douglas and an aged watercolour paper scrap, this’ll do for a sketch.

The day slipped away so fast including, the making and eating of French onion soup and sipping of French Blanc de Blancs along the way. Time disappeared while sketching, colouring, waiting, and repeating.

Magically, a pink flamingo sketch emerged.

Heartfelt bird tributes

Caribbean flamingoes
Standing, wading, feeding
Oblong, 2020,
Kringle prezzy, cushion.

Pink and grey, tin galah,
Gaze fixedly at all.
Cherished birthday gift from
My love with love to me.

Framed lesser flamingo
Drawn in solitary stance.
Commemorating five
And twenty years as one.

Pink plastic flamingoes
Planted on long steel legs.
Christmas token of love;
Future, past, and present.