This is the last painting that I
did in Maine, and I think it’s my favorite. It was a sunny afternoon in a
clearing, near a fox den, and the woods were just so complicated—dark in some
parts, glowing in others. Unfortunately, shortly into the process the painting was
Not Going Well, and I was getting grumpy. Plus I was tired, hot, and stinky.
(Sorry, foxes.) Things continued this way for a while, when all of a sudden something
clicked, and the painting came together, and the breeze blew, and all was right
with the world. This doesn’t always happen when a painting is going badly, but
when it does, it feels like magic.
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