I was on a walk in my neighborhood, and grumpy about how it was another gloomy day. I had been sick with a mother of a virus for 2 weeks, and the whole week after, when I felt good enough to venture out, it had been one foggy, rainy day after another. I forced myself out into the 45 F day, where you feel like the heavens are spitting on you.
Then, like a message from someplace way smarter than me, I was stopped in my tracks by this beautiful scene of puddles that had formed in the woods, and the title for this piece popped into my head.
Sometimes you just have to paint what you are told. This is one of those times.
I was on a walk in my neighborhood, and grumpy about how it was another gloomy day. I had been sick with a mother of a virus for 2 weeks, and the whole week after, when I felt good enough to venture out, it had been one foggy, rainy day after another. I forced myself out into the 45 F day, where you feel like the heavens are spitting on you.
Then, like a message from someplace way smarter than me, I was stopped in my tracks by this beautiful scene of puddles that had formed in the woods, and the title for this piece popped into my head.
Sometimes you just have to paint what you are told. This is one of those times.
Framed to 6.25" x 4.25"