At the Mirror II
Watching a woman at the mirror in the morning is a bit like watching someone meditate, the careful, ...

A friend posted this on Facebook and I told her, "I simply must paint this." So I did.
There are times when light and nature and the very air weaving through it take one's breath away. A waif of a girl, wending her way carefully through a meadow, searching . . . for what? It can only be magic, and the creator of all magic in woody houses are fairies.
Another friend told me "it looks magical." That is exactly what I felt when I saw and painted it, magic.
Watching a woman at the mirror in the morning is a bit like watching someone meditate, the careful, ...
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