The first of a flurious fury. No, a furious flury...

Last night I was to get back to some serious BLOGGING!!! Serious blogging? Sure, right after I drink my alcohol-free vodka, have my solemn somber meditations on the Three Stooges and...

Anyway, something happened. I did not blog, serious or otherwise.

I painted. And painted. And painted. I should be asleep right now, but I am still on post painting mind-weird.

I have been working on a theme, a glance of North Beach, in my usual custom: realist drawings, various abstractions in pencil and pen, color pencil work. That is just dipping one's toe in the water.

Serious work begins when brush hits paint hits paper/canvas/wood.

Last night, due to car troubles (not my own, but my ride's), an uncooperative ragu (c'mon, it's supposed to be done after 2 1/2 hours of cooking!), the arrival of a friend at the airport, etc., I ended up not going to the one bullfight of the year I most look forward to.

Bitter? Not I. It actually ended up a rather pleasant evening. We ate pasta, picked up our friend, who brought a bottle of Amaro Nonino over, chatted, and then, when everyone had gone to bed, I slithered off to the studio, espresso raging through my veins.

Brush hit paint, hit paper (watercolor this time - I needed the challenge last night). I was up late, but completed a major study, simplified the motif, worked the color, and stumbled off to bed at an hour that would make Dracula blush.

Today, no nap, but a perfect BLT and a bottle of Hop Ottin' IPA. What is a perfect BLT? Recipe to follow. Then nap.

Sleep. Sweet sleep. But first a recipe.