The sky was clear and blue and my painting was clear too this morning but as the hours passed, the clouds almost imperceptibly thickened until I could hardly see the painting anymore and I realized the whole process was trying to see through that clouded light. The painting's color began bluer then became grayer, yellower, grayer again, just like the light today. When the light is thick, time also thickens to a stand still. At times the painting held those hours, not like holding one's breath, but as if the entire process of living had slowed to hours between breaths. It takes so long for everything to be right in order to paint a painting, so that when the interruptions come, as they must, I'm once again back to the beginning with nothing much to show for it. Except today. Today I painted.