Last night, walking the dogs again, the moon was nearly full but behind a cloudy-almost-overcast sky.  There was enough light to discern rudimentary shapes but it was diffused and projected no shadows. I began to feel a familiar sensation.

I’m often struck by how a painting, that first seemed foreign to me, slaps back into my memory as an intimate friend. A sudden recognition of a place I’ve been  many times before.

That’s how the low contrast hazy atmosphere of last nights walk felt. I was walking through a tonalist landscape like the Bruce Crane painting hanging on the first floor gallery at the Swope.