A 9x12 pastel long view at the top of Sheep Hill where the path dips down and then goes up quickly.
Here's a quote from my recent reading, The Art of Attent!on: The Poet's Eye by Donald Revell:
"Having come to his senses, the poet needs no inner life. He sees his moods spread out before him, a continuous revelation of his present circumstances. There's nothing to elaborate, nothing to work out. Infancy improves with every hour spent in Eden, and attention makes Eden--i.e., a wholly new heaven and earth--everywhere, every single time... The poem is a promised land, and poetry is what happens there. Who would close his eyes to imagine it?"
