Paint what you love.
I love the seasons, the weather, the breath and the heartbeat of the earth, the change over, the switch between autumn’s old age and the bleak winter wherein life slows down, stops, hibernates, the festivals of stars, the everlasting, immortal stars, and the celebration of the wobble of the earth, not so extreme as to throw us all into the danger of extinction, but, to remind us of possibilities. To celebrate our good fortune. Time to rest, to contemplate, to reflect, to tell stories.
Walk through the woods, in the quiet of the afternoon or in a dream. At what moment does the season change?