It never occurred to me to be concerned with the why of my decision to paint a cemetery. My husband and I were out for a little date and it was foggy and beautiful in the cemetery near a local beach where we were planning to go so we decided to stop in and I snapped a few pictures, came home, watched some Bob Ross on Netflix, and then decided maybe I'd tackle a landscape myself because Bob really does make it look easy. Well, if I were using oil paints it might be an easy thing, but those damned acrylics won't let me off the hook quite so easily, I find. Beyond that, my process is never the same two paintings in a row so every time I paint, I feel like an utter novice. I sincerely love how this is turning out though. I do. I am excited to see where it all ends up. Morbid? Maybe. But really, cemeteries are tributes of love as well. That's what I see more than anything. All I ever knew of my father was his headstone after all.