Aren't we all tired of winter? I sit in my studio, with the wind howling around the corners of the house, and work at paintings, and freeze to near-death. After sitting there for hours, when I stand up, I am so stiff, I have to go down to the kitchen and almost lay on the woodstove to get myself moving again.
Then, I think of all the artists over the years that had it so much worse, suffering in their garrets, cold and hungry, with no hope of selling a painting, and I realize I am so very spoiled.
I don't know what it takes to paint a good painting, after all the paintings I've done. I just don't know. Good paintings just materialize, and it's not because of heat, or lack of, or winter, or trying too hard, for that matter. Good paintings are magical, that I know for certain.