painting

Yeasterday painting felt like this:

Painting is not a lovley dovley ceresing of life with a paint brush, it is a damn battle. Who will win this time pends the question every time one dares to enter the arena. The invisible master of the game, or me the mere pawn fighting in the name of things visible. Invisible master gets snappy if you win too many moves , he starts hitting you with wet paint, every two seconds, making you skickey, multycoloured, nervous, make mistakes, produce bogg colured mud, and than he relaxes when it all looks pooey, but once you wipe him off, and get a bit right he gets right down mean and nasty.

Today the same painting feels like this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PwXai-sgM-s

The portrait i am painting of Daria evolved into a living soceres, who can turn any viewer into a frog. And I after the battle won can breathe again.