You can’t see my crown yet, but I’m gonna be the Pochade Queen. I am on a mission. Been doing as many small landscape paintings as I can each day. Paint faster than I can think, do it, put it aside, begin another, later go back to the earlier ones, paint some more, and on and on. It is like swimming laps. Or like playing scales and seeking a mellow tone. Or like walking and thinking — thinking hard about stuff while staring at the ground, the grass and the little rocks passing by your feet in a miniature world at ant level. It is so automatic and dreamlike. Why isn’t work always like this forever?
Our weather is different. But I will paint autumn in winter perhaps as now I paint summer in the fall. I paint from drawings. There are there to guide and yet also there to evoke memories.
The light falls upon these rocks and makes them glad. The air is still yet buzzing with insects. The quiet is overwhelming the senses. The solitude is vast. Such great and spacious days!
You can’t see my crown yet, but it’ll be there. When I’m the “pochade queen” and have painted me a hundred little corners of the earth.