![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc5dthDe6WXpT8kmWygQOIMaqrG1x_QvUqAEYE6OIiDqR7EJRpP1M1SGHYoSK8_zkYCojg6wLnb_3lqehXKYPEr04ORb1biCFcRxhRmqnYs-6HHzAHVhCCIO89oSiYN-9iH6VawNbWTyg/s320/throwingtowelclup.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh34h5oZW47hULO1nwlHB4oH2z0foSKE55p6GaL_ESgOLNreZhCK42zBU9X7wyigdGRP7ZiTdWMl7sHykMHvVCknTdbMMQcqhPdYTfaStngS-VU6jK-TeqaDDXAfHnrKvZfqkbbLopnc4w/s320/throwingtowelgeneral.jpg)
Never thought I'd be so much into 'feeling' things. Colors yes, that much I knew & is known about me. I am obssessed with colors, matching them (even though now I am more French than Italian in this sense - less perfection, more experimenting).
So, feeling, yes. Fabrics, textures. Touching, caressing.
Last week I was desperate to use towels. (That was a premonition, I guess, days before I got my huuuuge contract that requires me to use 95% fabric as my material of 'choice'...)
See the result - part of the same Degas' Dancing class painting you've seen re-used before (with the old monkey Prof, for example) is here again, now showing a group of dancers, tired, I presume, taking a break.
I wondered if any of them was considering calling it quits. Throwing a towel.
I am gonna throw a blanket over my head and sleep now.
Night!
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