Science is great!
Much to my disappointment, the nurse administrating my dose refused to let me have the vaccine bottle when I asked if I could keep it. "It's a biohazard." Lady, you are injecting me with the stuff. It is empty and no more a biohazard than an empty insulin jar or aspirin bottle, but sure, say no. I was disappointed.
Had the shot in my right arm to balance out the left of the first dose. At Bob and Suzanne's suggestion, I kept my arm moving for the full 15 minute waiting period, then as much as I could stand for the next hour, in order to keep the soreness down. Let's see how this goes.
Tangentially related to the dose was my minor annoyance at the surgical mask I was asked to wear. Given my small head, the masks never fit well, giving me ample opportunity to inhale everyone else's germs. A number of other people were in the facility without a blue mask on, so the entrance requirement for the masks was inconsistent. Some people walked up with their surgical masks on, so the argument "we don't know how clean yours is, so require ours," is spurious at. best.
Fortunately, I'm not annoyed by two masks yet, much less one, so fine, I wore two.
Arrived slightly early, in line on time. Interesting to me, the first question asked was, "Pfizer or Moderna?" as the facility was administering both. I went in the green sticker camp, to match my green paper, and followed the line for Moderna.
Remember, no photos in the facility to protect the medical rights of everyone else at the same location. "Oops."
My fifth of n watercolors of Neko Harbour. The image below was taken with dried paint and natural, but shaded, light.
I was not patient with this version. I realized I was avoiding starting the painting, so dove right in with it tonight. I am doing a good job at reversing the avoiding-starting trend, as well at trying different techniques, which is the point of these paintings.
To start this one, I washed the whole paper down, which is to say, I wiped the whole paper with water, waited a short bit for the paper to soak in the water, then started painting. Once wetted, I didn't rewet the paper, so different pigment spreads happened as I worked. The foreground shore was definitely watercolor pigment spread; the middle water was definitely post-drying, as the sections lack texture and gradients. The far shore was angled wrong, and I clearly used the wrong initial laydown of color for the far glacier.
I like that I worked quickly with this painting, even if it didn't turn out "better" than others of this series.
I've heard that these paintings appear to be abstracts, as I am not capturing the scenery depth. I'd like to work on that. This is what the scene is from a slightly greater distance.
On my hike today, a successly lovely Zone 1 and Zone 2 hike, I had to stop to take a picture of these red flowers. I usually skip red anything in nature because the camera, any, all cameras, just doesn't capture reds well. This image is closer than most, I'm happy to say.
My fourth of n watercolors of Neko Harbor, poorly lit. The image below was taken with the paint still wet, so the colors are different here than with the painting dry.
I started this one while on a call with Dad. He was talking. He's a Hodsden: when he manages a head of steam, he'll be talking for a more than a bit. Lord knows, I inherited that quality from him. Since he'd be talking for a while, I settled down at the table where I had my paints set up, and started painting. About half way through, he called me out on it. "You're distracted," he said. So, I explained to him what I was doing, and sent over the picture of Neko Harbour and my first two attempts. I sent over a picture of my in-progress picture, then received a lecture on how to learn to paint well. Dad said I should pick one technique and become very very good at it before moving on to the next technique. I countered, or try many, many, many variations of the same image and learn something new on every painting, because, let's be real: I don't need a mansplaining on how to paint from someone who has never tried to paint anything smaller than a house. I did laugh with Dad about it, when he admitted that no, he doesn't know how to paint, and that my suggestion was likely as good ( :\ ) as his.