On Monday I Went to Georgetown

I've given up the idea of writing out thorough posts for the days I've missed this week, so I'm settling for shorter, highlights versions of each day instead. Here's Monday:


With the weather in the 70s for a few days, I planned a week of mostly outdoor excursions.  I took the Metro to Rosslyn (which always makes me picture this when I hear/see it), then found the stop for the DC Circulator.  A hop across the bridge, and I was in Georgetown.

I spent the afternoon wandering around.  I poked into a few stores, including three bookstores; walked up and down the streets; and ambled along the C&O canal.  When I found a tied-up boat near some benches in the shade, I sat down for a while and had a lovely chat with my mom on the phone.

I found some dinner at a diner in the area, then headed to Grace Street to take a class at a place called Blush 'n' Brush.  I had found this company a few months back while I was looking for things to do in DC, and while I didn't love any of the artwork on their calendar, I was highly intrigued about the teaching process involved with getting a class of adults of varying abilities/talents to paint the same painting in two hours.  Oh, professional development - why can't I quit you?

I had picked out the painting I hated the least on their calendar for June.  I realized in retrospect that a lot of what drew me to that painting over the others was that it was more complex.  This also made the painting harder for the class as a whole.  The teacher admitted when we were about 10 minutes from the end time and only halfway through the painting that this was their first time teaching this painting and "maybe we need to make it a three-hour class".

I stuck around until 9:45.  I didn't finish the painting, but I didn't really want to, either.  It certainly wasn't something I'm going to hang up in my home.  I did enjoy the process, though.  Most of the art I do now days are either pen-and-ink sketches or wide-scale set painting.  Working with acrylic paint on a canvas with an easel reminded me of doing stage makeup.  Except back when I was doing stage makeup, I had a lot more brushes to choose from in my collection.

In any case, I packed up my painting and my things, thanked the teacher, said farewell to the other students, and headed back out to catch the Circulator.  The stop just happened to be right next to a creperie, so I indulged in a little one with lemon and sugar, propping my painting up against the wrought-iron facade so I could eat the crepe with both hands.