Lass with a Vine
I once painted a portrait of a friend’s wife, which forever altered my method of painting the female form. Even though I labored many hours, I did not leave the arena a winner – it was the first time the bull tore through my skin. I felt an extreme aversion to the painting and actually became quite nauseated. Defeated but determined, I woke up at 2:00am and bravely confronted the easel again. Working quickly and feverishly, I repainted the portrait from memory. My color palette presented a certain intensity and I paid particular attention to her facial features and smile. The result was miraculous and triumphant. The portrait captured a woman’s authentic beauty, mystery, timidity and charm. From then on, my portraits were not fulfilled until I fell in love with the woman in the painting, not the painting itself.