I keep painting because I can't.  it's impossible.  to look at a landscape with its infinite detail, color and expanse and then, distracted by thought and emotion, to squeeze all of that onto a tiny canvas with the clumsy tool of a paintbrush is simply impossible.  there is no end to painting.  there is no right, and I find my freedom in that.  i love that.

when i paint i am looking for what it is that I am seeing, what I'm feeling, and what I remember.  It makes me look harder.  I find what's surprising in things and look for the pattern that interests me.  I try to work it all out on my canvas until i finally find the rhythm and relationships in those patterns that look like my experience. 

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