I can almost feel the sand between my toes and the salty air blowing through my hair. The grass on this painting was harder to do than I thought it would be. But with a few more strokes (like a bazillion) of color in the grass it is done and the mound of sand took form. I see the panels and know I look forward to seeing them gel together. I have been to that place where what you see and dream comes through you hands.
Keep on with your bold strokes and what will be next?
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