Paul has gotten into a state of extreme organization and is focusing on my studio. Usually, I'm the only one in there, but soon Sophie will probably be joining me for Sesame Street and art projects, and it would be reassuring to know that there's NO way she can get to the exacto knives, paint, and various other non-edible art supplies.... also that when she goes looking for a piece of paper to color on, she doesn't use the back of one of mama's paintings. So we're looking into cabinet doors with locks, and lots of shelving. In any case, I've been going through old artwork (more on that later) and was reminded of a painting I did in college. I was royally sick for my first painting class and made up the assignment really fast the night before it was due. I had to paint a 14" x 14" self-portrait using acrylics. I don't recall what it looked like, except that I was heavily into maroon and green at the time so I used a lot of those. When I brought it in, the teacher was really interested in it. She shook her head and said that I knew things... that I might not even need this class and that I might know more about painting than she did! I didn't see what she saw in it; all I could see was that it had colors I liked in it and I painted it when I was really tired. I showed it to Snowflake and she didn't get it either. I'm dying to find this painting and see if I really did "know" anything back when I was 18! Lately I have been watercolouring late at night when I really should be going to bed. I'm not sure if they're any good... I feel like I'm trying to tell myself something, but I don't know what it is.