Learning to Fly

I sometimes feel I in a running battle with time.  Maybe "battle" is not the right word since there's nothing you can do about the passage of time.  It just is. George Harrison said "time is a very misleading thing.  All there is ever, is the now.  We can gain experience from the past, but can't relive it; and we can hope for the future but we don't know if there is one."  Maybe that's it, having reached that point in my life where there's less road ahead and more behind and the world situation increasingly fragile. The "now" is more important.

I think that's why I'm really enjoying painting small works (less than 8 X 10) as a preparatory study.
They are as highly detailed as their sibling just smaller and I finish them sooner. I can complete a small piece in a day; two at best and get that endorphin dump of accomplishment.   Even small,  each piece gets the same amount of attention to detail.  The only difference is the small piece is done on a canvas panel instead of the smooth birch of the final piece.  Both are unique due to variation in brush stroke and lessons learning from color choice or layout decisions.

The most recent one I've completed is one called "Leaning to Fly" and was based on a photo of two fledgling swallows perched upon a concrete fence post.  You can imagine the pair debating the conditions.  "I'll go with the bit of  breeze"  or "I'll try it if you go first."   It's on a 6 X 6 canvas panel. 

Would I do anything differently?  The only thing differently for the final piece is include a small retaining wire that folds over the front of  the concrete post and wraps around the fence wire on the right. It'll look perfect on its larger relative since it'll cast a faint shadow on the post and won't compete visually with the swallows.