Being familiar with the species, this was easy to paint from my imagination. It is the third painting in a series for Rebecca.

The Dysthemia's beak is dulled from constantly picking out its own feathers, but is nonetheless effective as it persistently probes for any weakness, then worries and tears until the weakness is a festering wound. The bird's eyes are rheumy and unfocused, because for it, there will never be anything on the horizon.

This was painted on a texture of dessicated arthropod (ant and a whopping big grass spider). The experience gave me insight into the magic of how mundane dust is made.

A Malingering Dysthemia. Acrylic on masonite, 6.75"x5".