A corner has been turned

A corner has been turned.

I'm not sure it's THE corner, but clearly, during the process of erasing Ms. Burnett's eyes and re-installing them (like they were appliances) about half an inch lower on the canvas, a corner was turned. And, given that the big sign on the street onto which we have turned says "One Way", there is no going back. Likewise, driving around the block is not an option.

It is now a completely different painting--for good or for bad. I wish I had a picture. I will by this evening. Until then, consider the following set of parameters:

1--Big Erin is now looking down, red-eyed, possibly crying
2--Purples and blues and now much more in evidence, particularly in the shadows on the side of her face and neck
3--She is now called "Distraught Erin (Lavender Mist)"--which is a title I like.
4--Replacing the previously planned copy which went approximately like this:

If I see that idiot Cramer stare down my dress one more time I'm gonna freak out

will read a far longer message, circling the perimeter of the painting, perhaps twice, proceeding, approximately, along these lines:

You think this job is easy? Constant public scrutiny ... a new hair-do every freaking day ... a parade of creeps staring at my ass ... and the idiot who's painting me insists on calling my lavaliere a surrogate nipple! What's up with that? Sheesh.

It may not all fit, and it may be a bit much after I think about it for a while (some fine-tuning is bound to happen), but it does make me smile.

Manomanoman, I am feeling the wind in my hair, dear reader! I'm like that annoying Leo DiCaprio in "Titanic." I'm standing on the bow; all I can see is water and seagulls; I've got my arm around Kate Winslett (and really, how hot is she? You should smell the perfume she's wearing.); the iceberg is still a number of miles away; and I--channeling Yurtle the Turtle in my own special, disfunctional way--am King of the World.