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This question is one with which I always struggle.  How do you know when you have reached the point that your work is complete, and it's time to stop?  When I was in law school, all of us law students had the same question aboout our research:  How did we know when we had found all the relevant cases?  In that instance, I learned to recognize the stopping point when my searches down different paths started turning up the same cases over and over.   But with painting, at least in my experience, it's not that simple.  One person says a painting is finished when "there is nothing else that needs to be corrected".  But there is such a temptation to keep working, aiming for the one final touch that will elevate the painting to an even higher level.  More often than not, I err on the side of over-working the painting.  In this painting, "Front Stoop Garden", I forced myself to stop while the most decisive brushstrokes in the shutters and facade were still evident.  I like the geometry and energy they create, and and I think it gives the viewer a stronger insight into my process.  What do you think?

It sure is nice when you can do plein air painting right in your own back yard!  Having the convenience of the refrigerator and the bathroom just steps away certainly makes things simpler.  In this painting, I set up on my patio.  I knew I had a narrow window of time when the sun would be right, so it was important to paint quickly.  Perhaps my favorite part of this painting is the way the pink pillow on the right reflected onto the white tablecloth.  Hard to portray accurately, but I gave it a try.

Lately I've been intrigued by the wide range of fresh produce at the local Farmers' Market.  Late summer brings so many interesting colors and shapes to paint.  When my eyes fell on these radishes, I actually uttered at little gasp--the beautiful colors of red, purple and pink were begging to be painted.  I got them home and saw the tag:  "Easter Egg Radishes", a varietal previously unknown to me.  They are certainly deserving of the name.  It's a nice challenge to stand before something you have never before seen or noticed--much less painted--and pick up the brush.  Something about being free of any preconceived notion of what the objects look like allows you to see with fresh eyes, and to paint more truly what you see.

This was our "home away from home" on vacation in Semur-en-Auxois, France.  An old mill directly on the river, lovingly converted to a charming residence.  I can still hear the sound of the rushing water!

This painting was a moment of redemption for me!  After several days of very cloudy weather--highly frustrating for a plein air painter!--I decided to stop letting the weather conditions deter me.  I found the perfect spot to stand on newly mown hay and capture this golden field, with the dark sky in the background.  Very dramatic!