bemusing musings of a bewildered brush-wielder

the interchange of hues

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imagetwo hours progress

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imagefour hours progress

This is the daughter of a friend of mine.  Yesterday, I asked my friend if she might pose for a painting, just for the fun of it.

As I began this painting, today, I recalled a passage of an old book which I read years ago, written in 1879 by a Scottish author.  “Ginevra was still a silent, simple, unconsciously retiring, and therewith dignified girl, in whom childhood and womanhood had begun to interchange hues, as it were with the play of colours in a dove’s neck. Happy they in whom neither has a final victory!”  from Sir Gibbie, by George MacDonald.

The interchange of hues, as it were with the play of colors on a dove’s neck- I can’t think of a more beautiful metaphor.  Ah, to paint like this.

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