Most people pack up when the light goes. I wait for it.
Hummingbird at Dusk came from those last twenty minutes when the colors stop behaving — when warm and cool trade places and a wall you’ve stared at all day turns to plum and ash. You have to work fast. There’s no time to second-guess, no time to “fix” anything. You chase what’s in front of you before it’s gone.
I love that pressure. It strips out everything that isn’t the painting. By the time the room is dark, either you caught the moment or you didn’t — and the canvas always tells the truth.
