End of the Day

End of the DayThe weather couldn’t make up its mind.  It was cold, and Venice hadn’t held charm for me.  The storm clouds began to drift over, slowly taking the place of the blue pink dusk.  I wasn’t sorry to be leaving.  Back home I worked on this with no idea of how it would turn out.  I haven’t used pastels for years.  I made a large mess and have yet to regain the feeling in my finger tips.

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This entry was published on May 14, 2013 at 7:33 pm. It’s filed under Pastel and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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