It was a typical late October day. I was painting in the backyard under the canvas sky. It was cold, but not too cold. Most importantly it was not wet. Nevertheless the atmosphere was damp.

It was difficult to concentrate, and I was struggling to stay focused. I had been working on the above blue painting Willows in the Night for the past weeks. It was in the final stages. The wind was moving, it was gently turbulent.

I had to pick up a tube of paint off the ground. When I reached down a strong gust of wind blew the painting off the easel and the painting fell onto my head and shoulders.

Fuck. I picked up the painting. I wanted to throw it into the fench of frustration.I picked up the painting and put it on the ground at a 45 degree angle leaning against the bicycles and continued to paint.

Several hours later... I had managed to complete the painting.

I put my things away and cleaned up.

I had to smile while having a shower. My entire body turned blue while washing my hair.

This was a hard day, but it was one of the best days of my life.

thank you

Patrick