“Quickly, as if she were recalled by something over there, she turned to her canvas. There it was – her picture. Yes, with all its green and blues, its lines running up and across, its attempt at something. It would be hung up in the attics, she thought; it would be destroyed. But what did that matter? she asked herself, taking up the brush again. She looked at the steps; they were empty; she looked at her canvas; it was blurred. With a sudden intensity, as if she saw it clear for a second, she drew a line there, in the centre. It was done; it was finished. Yes, she thought, laying down her brush in extreme fatigue, I have had my vision”. (V. Woolf)

Love the final passage of “To the Lighthouse” and every time I finish a canvas I wonder what moment of being, epiphany or sudden realisation it may bring. This was started very very long time ago…but even this time… nothing 🤣 just the joy of playing with colours and glitter, and getting it done! The power of imagination. Here’s my variation on “Moonlit landscape” by van Gogh, with way way more moonlight.