Today will be remembered for snow. I'm not sure what the final accumulation will be. We're currently somewhere around 20", and it's still coming down.
I took advantage of the excuse to stay warm inside with some studio time. Listening to Alan Watts and not really hearing a word he's saying, but enjoying the rhythm and tone of his voice.
I like when a painting is alive. It breathes. It finds its own rhythm.
The paint itself is alive. A painter's job is simply to not kill it.
Today, I'm glad for paint, and for the luxury of time and space.