Picky hen

Sometimes I just wake in a mood- everybody seems foreign to me, and my efforts to communicate only get me further muddled in my own frustration. I had expectations of spending the morning with my husband, the afternoon with the kids and they...flew away, with hardly an explanation. I found myself all alone. So I dragged my sulky self to the studio barn and set about painting what comes easily- a hen. When I dug up a clump of clover to paint the landscape- I pondered the luck of the 4 leaves and felt it was all sooooo picky. The hen is picky, I feel picky, the paintbrush work is picky. But, in the process, I've started to feel a lot better.