I had a marvelous dream last night that I was with my dad (or Kim's dad--the identities were dream-shifty) in a painter's studio on Baxter Avenue. The studio belonged to this man I'd never met, but whoever I was with had business or social connections with him. We were picking up some kind of artwork that was to go in Jill's room. I was walking around the studio, and there were wonderful paintings. I was most struck by a few very large ones. They were painterly, full of rich and subtle hues, and elegant. It was exactly how I wanted to paint.