It is the slash of Prussian blue, tinged with Alizarin Crimson and tinted with Viridian; sliding from the thick, velvety, depths of the stroke to the soft transparent smear of the feathered tail. A tail sensitively inscribed with the bristles of the hog hair brush, which has been softened through gentle manipulation and cleaning . It is the transforming of the mysterious drowning blue of the impasto, into the membranous transparency of the even tempo end stroke; seductively veiling the white of the canvas and caressing the underlying mark. It is the slender earthy smell of the linseed oil seeping into the atmosphere after lazily glistening along the surface of the paint in the moments before the brush dipped in to elicit the perfect drop of paint.

It is for this that I paint and continue to paint, in quest of the increased sensitivity to transform a yellow dot into the sun