At last, a New Fish Painting

The problem was a too-rough surface–my reds/yellows/pinks/oranges weren’t blending, and the shading just blobbed. I’d painted over the pleasant mountain scene originally contained by the frame so I could paint something I thought would go with the wonderful carving. But it was on plywood, very hard, very rough.

I was complaining about this recently to an artist friend who, off the cuff, suggested I cover the whole thing with a transparent medium and then paint on that. What a great idea! It gave me a more versatile surface, and although the painting never did look like the one in my head, I like it.

The picture, including the frame, measures 25″ x 16″.
Click on the image to enlarge it.

Radiation Begins

Then, my right breast began to ache. It hurt inside, hurt to press my arm against it, not terribly painful but disturbing. I began painting, a distraction. I’ve decided to paint fish portraits because it’s kind of mindless and absorbing at the same time. There are so many fabulous fish that I will never run out of them, never have to think up a new idea for the day, and I’m at least doing something.

I ate a good breakfast, painted for awhile, and then I began to feel, not tired, but weepy. I couldn’t stop crying for several hours. My breast hurt and everyone said it wouldn’t so what’s wrong with me? Am I making this up? Is it psychosomatic? Am I just creeping out?

I just kept painting my fish. Now, about eight hours after my treatments, I am feeling better, not hurting as much, calming down. At least I finished this Queen Parrotfish. I saw several of these, each about as large as my shoe, two weeks ago with my friend Rowland from a glass-bottomed boat off Key West.