Oh, the horror!
No sex changes for Snowy, Woody, though if I'd gone with a good strong light source I may have been tempted to take the artistic license.
Due to yesterday's inclement weather, my employers decided to close up shop for the day (for the safety of all us commuters). And here I thought I was too old for snow days! So I shut myself in (after a good wave from my balcony to those poor souls inching by on the roadway), laid out the paints, and got to work with a good dose of early optimism. I fattened out the bird, laid down a basecoat in preparation for all that white, and them promptly watched it all go downhill from there. I spent a lot of time fussing with the wing, trying to get the position of the primaries and the looseness of the terts to looks right. Next was the head, which I painted, repainted, and repainted again several times throughout the afternoon. By last night she looked like an irate stuffed cat, and I really wanted nothing more than to snap the board over my knee.
I took another whack at it this morning, and I think I'm much more pleased with it now. She's a lot more alert (no more slitty cat's eyes), and I spent some time determining how the planes of the face should sit. It's not as loose as I'd originally intended, but at least now I feel I have somewhere to go.