I spent a large part of last weekend “armwrestling” myself. I felt tired and resented the notion that, since I had the time, I ought to try and paint something. But the inactivity made me restless. Late afternoon Sunday I finally gave in, or stepped up, – depending on which side of the schizophrenic dialogue one is inclined to favor. Absurdly, I felt better for it. I hear friends say that about exercise…
Perhaps because of the dark palette, close tonality, and impasto, this was a beast to photograph. The details capture the handling better but there is still a great deal of flare.
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