A happy morning, playing with balloons and static electricity.

This what the world really looks like today. Way more snow than expected: where is the rain they predicted? I guess these are "les neiges d'antan" we will look back on so fondly someday.

Finished this painting recently, obviously from last spring. First big snow today.

Here is a group of my artist friends having breakfast together. Far left are Giovanni Casadei and Frances Galante, whom I've known since art school! The group meets once a month in Reading Terminal Market, although my attendance is spotty due to childcare. It is amazing how often there is a school in-service day, a field trip or a childhood illness on that one morning of the month.

This is the sight that faces me each night: the gaping lunchboxes of the three boys, empty and waiting. I feel a little like a mother bird, as I fill each one up bit by bit. They all have different food preferences, so its a fairly complex process. I realized this when I was going to be away and my husband asked me to write out a list of lunch prep directions for him: I practically got writer's cramp.

This is a work in progress, a portrait of my son Henry. I am calling it "Light Headed" for the way the light catches in his hair, and other reasons.

A quick study of boys swimming done at my friend Eliza's pool this summer. I was so frantic to paint, but with the boys on summer vacation I had very little studio time. So I filled a gardening bag with paints, an old folding palette, and scraps of gessoed wood and started toting it around wherever we went. When I got the chance I painted, even just for a few minutes. I wasn't worrying about results: I just needed to paint. This is 4 1/2 x 9 inches.

A quiet Sunday night. The boys are in bed, Paul is reading, and I am too wiped out to do any more studio work. So I'm blogging instead!

Here are Paul and the guys, snug as 4 bugs in a rug. TV is a great way to get all of them (except Henry) to stay still, and many artists swear by it as a posing aid, especially for children. I dislike the vacant expresion on a TV-watching face however.

A small oil sketch of boys fighting in the woods. One of those moments:the other parents ran over to intervene, and I ran over to take pictures. I did the sketch, thinking I'd rework it later. But I like it as it is, despite its roughness. So I guess I'll just think of it as notes for a larger piece. Is that when a sketch becomes a study? When the "big" picture it was used for is completed?