Just when I thought it was safe to go back into the studio. New canvas, new size, same old oils (though I am trying a non-flammable, low odor paint thinner to replace my beloved but toxic, stinky and highly flammable turpentine.)
I can't quite reconcile the visual memory of this place- the roads, the quilted landscape -with painting it.
Though I don't really like it, I am feeling a little Milton Avery-ish with this first wash. Each painting seems to be a little art history tour for me, lately. Forget the seven faces of eve, I am the 200 chapters of Jansens.
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