I finished this yesterday, toying to the end with the balance between subtlety, clarity, and open-endedness in the final surface. I think a lot lately about the play between the face of the painting, where the brush leaves its final kiss, and its bones and flesh: the composition, the harmonic structure, the color, etc. It seems a shame not to let the surface have its own voice.

Here the brushwork varies depending on what it describes. In some places the only difference between water and mist is the action of the brush. Not that I planned it that way. It was an emotional reaction: like a piece of charcoal, my brush followed the characteristic action of water, cloud, mist, rock.

Today I gave myself the traditional day off after finishing a painting. This is my ritual; I use the day to celebrate, relax, and put some psychic and emotional space between paintings.