In Uscio, on the first of November, the light comes in low over the Via Vittorio Veneto, and she sits with what she already keeps. The painting is built only of remembered colours. A light reddish brown returns first, the warm peach of a bare shoulder in streaming window light, like cinnamon bark, like leather tanned in oak. It was Sunday 2 August, in Rome, and the heat there was a thing you wore.
A grayish red follows, the beard of a man, dusty terracotta where gray and auburn interweave, like old brick left to fade. She found it on Saturday 8 August in Uscio, and it remembers the clear sky of that afternoon.
The wrinkled sheets carry a grayish blue, slate in fog, the colour of old cloth left in the light. A yellowish gray, like aged bone, rises from the plaster of a ceiling medallion, and a grayish olive green, the lichen on a damp wall, settles into the altar stone of the same Sunday. A pale blue cools the evening sky above Westminster, and a grayish reddish orange, dusty brick at midday, holds the gallery wall in Bozeman, where the snow fell that October.
Everything here is kept, and nothing is gathered. The floor beneath her is a cream-yellow vinyl, and she crosses it toward the sofa as if it were nothing at all.
painted 3 November 2026 — colours from East Cottonwood Street, Bozeman, United States, Victoria Embankment, City of Westminster, United Kingdom, Località Olivi, Uscio, Italy, Via Vittorio Veneto, Uscio, Italy, Via Costa Chiesa, Uscio, Italy, Borgo Angelico, Rome, Italy. [[tag:Tincture]] [[tag:painting]] [[Paintings]] [[style:TinctureStyle]]