My finest linen has finally arrived. This one was particularly smooth, with just a touch of softness, so my fingers didn’t ache as I stretched it over the frame I built.
I first laid down a few brush strokes with acrylic.
I keep forgetting how special that moment is — when the paint sinks into the fibres, blooming softly, slightly unpredictable, never entirely obedient.
Uniquely imperfect.
Painting the drape is always indulgent. Press play on Audible or Spotify and let yourself get lost in a journey through folds, light, and shadow. Hours pass. Maybe days.
And then, tentatively, you know it’s going to be special. You feel it as it slowly unveils itself.
ELYSIUM. The name carries a sense of wonder. If paradise were a woman, she would be it.
*temporarily reserved