Big shapes of brown, black and green are thrown together. The cut wedges are dashed in and the bulk of the lime is worked on. Color is shifted back and forth. The skin of a lime is far more yellow than one would think. The flesh a little bluer. At some point the pacing and hard stares begin. More tea is made. Maybe a phone call answered. This is not going well. After standing and staring with feet frozen, out comes the big palette knife. Scrape. Scrape. The big piece of lime is gone. The shape wasn't right. Nor was the color. Or the tone. Or something. More painting, this time faster and more certain. This will do it.
No, it won't. Out comes that knife again. Who does this little lime think it is? It knows what it is. Like everything in the series painted before it, it's under the lamp. It is the boss. It has a curve like this, a hint of ocher in that bruise there, a shadow with a softness that can't be too strong. The lime is in charge. All the brush can do is follow.
The lime comes and goes a few more times. Another cup of tea is brewed. Some e-mail gets checked. Did you know that BMW announced a new dirt bike? Damn that bitter bitter lime.
More painting. This time, there's no knife, just a bigger brush. This time, the presumptuous lime is vanquished for good. In a mighty smear of satisfaction, a strip of black and brown, it's gone. It's my damn painting. I'll do what I want.
Lime Wedges, 6" x 4", sold
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