|Hillpoint Woods; Oil: 36" x 36"|
Fall is a phenomenally beautiful lie. The light is golden, the trees flame red under the brilliance of clear ultramarine sky--BUT the season doesn't fool me one bit. Cool North winds will blow away the splendor, cover lawns with decaying debris, chill bones and weigh hearts down with loathing for the winter snows to come. Maybe that's why it took so long to finish?