A poorly judged tone turns into a cloudburst. A leaf catching the sun turns into the sun itself. A horizon opens up where non existed. All of a sudden you are contending with a painting that seems to have set its own direction. Does it matter that the best elements of the painting are an accident?
No, this is one of the reasons why painters paint. How to capitalize on these gifts? It feels like a juggling act, which way to turn. Do you stick doggedly like a good Puritan to your original path or try and unravel this new language that has been presented?
I will take the unknown path. I have already seen what I know. Each time a painting shifts there is an expectation that something new will be revealed and you will have added another word or two to your vocabulary.
Will tomorrow be kind to me or will these gifts vanish as quickly as they appeared?
Bird in a tree 13. At the end of day 1.