Cassandra Barney

Every night this week, I have worked like a little squirrel getting my house in order for winter. I've been finishing up my four big paintings for our show, feeling good about my progress. I've been sorting, cleaning, and rearranging. By the time Friday night rolled around, I was ready to let go, rest and play.

Then something happened. I don't know if it was that crazy moon all week, or the wild sunrises and sunsets. Maybe it was the incoming storm.
Late Friday night I sneaked into the studio to sort some papers. I was listening to Billy Holiday, feeling myself calming down when it came, the churning and the burning. I woke up the next morning with the vision of a painting in my mind.
I asked my daughter to model, took scrap and got to work. It was storming and cold outside so we made a fire, Dan cooked and the little ones did crafts in the studio with me. It was a cozy, happy day.
The thing is, the painting turned out totally different than my dream, of course. I'm not even sure what this painting is about. I'm not going to look at it today and then tomorrow I'll either think I've gone mad or I'll be pleased. Now I'm going to relax.