And so this was Christmas

Jávea, New Year's Eve at my parents house.
We are digesting, herculean labor on this occasions. Dinner finished a while ago but we are still a bit far from the twelve grapes. Polvorones and cava to kill the time (and perpetuate digestion). I start drawing the Nativity scene and what's around. I start not so convinced but at some moment I realize the synthetic poinsettia leaves, Mary and Joseph the size of Barbie and Ken, the angel hanging from the picture frame, and suddenly everything seems indispensable to draw and the pen starts working alone. Alas, this fluidity doesn't got transmitted to my gut.
The boost is so strong that the day after I've still got fuel to keep on drawing spots of this tremendous showcase, but there are no more synthetic poinsettia leaves driving me to put some color.