What's that Joni Mitchell song?

How does that Joni Mitchell song go? By the time we got to the Cambodian Highlands, we were half a million strong. Something like that?

Anyway, here's seven straight versions of The Wounded Man:















The top three you've seen before. The bottom four I did over yesterday and today.

I'm not one to toot my own horn, but I do think I'm a wonderful painter. At least at this one moment in time. This one moment right now. Here. Exactly now. Bang. This exact second. Kaboom. Bingo.

Am I bugging you? I don't mean to bug you. Okay Edge--play the blues...

I like that look on his face. Looks a little bit like Leo DiCaprio.

I'm going to touch the thing up tomorrow and then hand it over to Kate. And then we'll see. In the end I see a lot of his body being a lot darker--kind of disappearing into the darkness of the shade of the tree trunk he's leaning against--but I can't gauge how much darker until I get a sense of what the background will look like. It's hard to tell what anything looks like against all that white.

Rough chronology going forward: I think she gets it, then I get it back, then she gets it back, and then I finish it.

Although you could argue (particularly after listening to me bitch and moan about needing to paint rougher; avoiding the urge to "finish" too neatly) that I should just stop where things stand now. I don't think it's the right answer, but one could make the argument.