Toast

 

July 15, 2023

Still and hot, like the inside of an oven, except also dully bright with hazy sun. The evening primrose I planted over Maud’s grave shot up belatedly and is in bloom. Evening primrose seemed right for her, somehow. Single giant Mexican sunflowers dominate both the front and the back gardens. I didn’t plant them this year, so they are re-seeds from days gone by.

Finished by far my biggest work in egg tempera. A painting can be done in one day because you don’t have to wait so long for drying. 

Longing for toast for my sandwich, remembered making toast at Boy Scout camp by frying bread in a skillet. Did so again after sixty years. Ambrosia. 

It’s been trying to rain all day.