Just sometimes I can’t settle and be at peace with a painting.
It’s out there somewhere, or tucked away in a book, and it’s niggling me.
It’s cropping up in my thoughts and interfering in my whatever’s-happening-next-ness.
Look, here she is. She looks mis-coloured.
What’s a page with no yellow? No warmth?
Where’s her depth? Can’t leave her cold like this.
Bring on the warm tones!
(I’m happy now!)