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It was going to be one of those Friday tea-time projects, you know, something simple, something I’ve done before, but this time a bit softer. Just the last job before a day off. Nothing too fancy. The sketching out would be the longest task, followed by a few flamboyant wafts of the paintbrush, resulting in… well I don’t exactly know now, but not what I ended up with.

You see it’s a scientific fact that if you spend an arm and a leg on the best watercolour paints and the best cotton rag paper, you can’t go wrong; the paint practically flies out the palette all by itself and sorts itself out once in situ on the paper. Except my arm and a leg paints and paper must have had a POETS day (pi** off early tomorrow’s Saturday), because they just didn’t perform as told. Maybe if I’d worn a beret and a smock they’d have taken me more seriously, who knows?

Anyway, the result. I’m not sure what to make of this chap:

oh dear!

oh dear!

Hubby likes him, but I’m not sure. He’s supposed to be going onto squares of linen fabric, or at least part of him is (his head and shoulders), but he’s missing something and so am I… sleep! Maybe I’ll be able to tweak him tomorrow? Or maybe I’ll start afresh? I enjoyed painting him anyway, so all’s not lost.

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