The chickens were free-range chickens. The feathered ladies and I had quite the conversation as they gathered around my easel while I painted their homestead. At times I looked down at them and they looked up at me... heads cocked staring with those little beady eyes, then looked away with a scratch, scratch here and a scratch, scratch there; and I with my paint brush in hand, a daub, daub here and a daub, daub there. We all seem to be in good humor among the pleasantries of a farm that day.
I've been thinking about my day there. So this week I was drawing, with pencils... at home... in my bedroom..at my desk..in my sketchbook from photos taken at the Kingston farm.
First the piggies...
Then the chickens.
I had to chuckle when I finished this drawing. In an instant I saw a resemblance to Rembrandt's, Dutch Masters: uniformity in dress, focus on portraiture in a group setting. My husband suggested putting hats on the ladies. Cluck, cluck,,, no, no, we all thought.
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