I was looking for some writing I'd done in the late 1980's and came across this short but astute observation I made in July, 1989:
"What a difficult day. The paintings elude me. They hide and tease me but when I think I've found one it withers away, trite and easy. There are a thousand easy paintings."
This remains true today. While some of my concerns have changed the core sentiment remains the same. I once again find myself searching and find the paintings elude me. It is lovely serendipity to come across this old musing - it reminds me that the walk is never finished, there are simply stops along the way. I'm walking again, in low light and fog but still walking.