November 11, 2012

Spent a few hours at the gallery stroll, left when I had finished painting. Two of the strollers who came in and mused on what my paintings told them about the inside of my head. They were not specific. Jolene pointed out the painting she liked best, which was the one on the wall I hadn’t done.

Real freezes have come, and the towering angels' trumpets are brownish ruins.

In an hour it’s off to Carrboro to hear Night Music.