Winter is in love with Wisconsin. It is passionately and ferociously holding onto our little corner of the world, draping itself over us with its cold winds and icy rain. It leaves its smothering mark everywhere we look, not wanting to be forgotten.
I am no longer patient with it and want it out of my life. Let it find another place that will reciprocate with it's affection. There was a time when I loved it, but the feeling is no longer mutual.
So, while I wait, I'll paint. If I can't have spring in my garden, I'll splash it into my sketchbook.
"Little Blue House in the Lavender Field"
"Trespassing in the Lavender"