I have completed a fourth painting and it's something of a relief. Until late last night I couldn't feel totally satisfied with it. Around 10pm as I passed through the studio to shut the doors for the night I had to start working on it again. The night was warm and the studio doors were open onto the terrace and somewhere below me people were having a party.
This morning when I went to open the shutters I expected to still feel a sense of incompleteness when I looked at the painting; it often happens. I looked at it, moved away, looked again. It is finished.
Now I'm anxious to move on to the next canvas even though I should stop or the paintings won't have time to dry. But, whilst the canvas is there and the palette is already heavy with paint it's going to be hard to resist continuing to work.
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