Today presents us with a transcendence of grey. Our view is grey, grey variegated sky, grey buildings. Through a brilliance of initial concept (mine), the walls of our flat are also grey. The French birds, paint on board, with a painted frame, offer mere punctuation.
So, looking outward, I strive to perceive the details within neutrality, the soft cottony rolls of light and darker clouds, the multiple shades presented by the blocky buildings of Greenway Plaza and along the West Loop.
Inside, however, there are few variations to perceive. The spirit wavers, and then to lift itself, it goes for sunshine into a painting I've had for years. It's by a Canadian artist, Darryl Hughto, who no longer paints, I hear. But it's a fine surprise of Southwestern sun on a grey day.