“That meadow scene is the first thing that comes back to me. The smell of grass, the faint chill of the wind, the line of the hills, the barking of a dog: these are the first things, and they come with absolute clarity. I feel as if I can reach out and trace them with a fingertip. And yet, as clear as the scene may be, no one is in it.”
― Haruki Murakami,
These paintings from my visit to SFMoMA are on my mind today. They sort of match my Wednesday mood. In-betweens. Almosts and not quites. And in the midst of it all, quiet.