Things keep changing.

So far, I think that what looks like a backward step (painting somewhat realistically again) might really be a breakthrough for me. I paint things again (trees, sky, snow on leaves) but without the “copy-what-you-see” feel. I go out, walk around, and bring home some hopeful colors, using my memory, and my phone if I remember it. The shapes and compositions get worked out on the canvas. Carving away the chaos of the first splatterings with bigger brushes and sometimes the edge of a postcard, I identify the places where the art seems strongest, and go from there. It all seems to come down to spending more time out in the woods in the end, since that’s where my muse seems to live.

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