Think of the days in your life where time has been unimportant. I bet they were good days. Days filled with pleasure, the outdoors, with forgetting to eat a meal because you were full up with the act of being. I can remember a day like this. I was 7, learning to fish with my parents on the Kenai river. It was summer. I caught my limit. I skimmed over rocks, watched the water ripple. Sunburned and drowsy I asked what time it was. My dad said it was 10:30 and I wondered how it was possible that we’d only been there an hour. Turns out Alaska had tricked me with its long summer days. It was 10:30 at night and the whole day had passed with the sun still high in the sky. I lost track of time. It was a good day.
Details: This is an acrylic mixed media painting on a 1.5" gallery-wrapped canvas, framed in a simple pine strip frame.