The aforementioned monsoon season persisted for so bloody long that flora emerged that this desert hadn't seen in decades. Apparently, I am allergic to them. All of them. What followed was a battle of wills, and I lost. The ensuing phlegm-fest (of course it's a word!) took me down for six awful days. I'm actually supposed to submit art tomorrow for a small juried show, which may or may not happen now.
Aside from that, things are looking okay. I placed first in the annual Black Range Artists Exhibition with an abstract work from last year (Portal, oil on canvas, 18"x24"). My father, whose opinion of art I value beyond measure, has stated plainly that abstraction is my strong suit. All I know is abstraction seems to flow from the brushes in a way that the Vanitas series does not. The still lifes are always laborious and sometimes tedious; in truth, though, I'm not done with exploring their potential.