Life, art, and letters of George Inness . small, and the sea thatis beating against them looks hard, it has no motion. On the impulse of the moment he seized his paletteand dashed at the canvas. The quiet waves wereturned into a raging sea of foam, the sky was dark-ened to lower the tone, and over the whole picture anangry thunder-storm was cast. He stood off fromthe easel and looked at it. Confound the thing! I ve ruined it. The sea ismud, and the sky has turned to lead. I cannot rubit off because the paint underneath is wet. Its get-ting dark, and I must catch the train. Curse theluck! I 11
Life, art, and letters of George Inness . small, and the sea thatis beating against them looks hard, it has no motion. On the impulse of the moment he seized his paletteand dashed at the canvas. The quiet waves wereturned into a raging sea of foam, the sky was dark-ened to lower the tone, and over the whole picture anangry thunder-storm was cast. He stood off fromthe easel and looked at it. Confound the thing! I ve ruined it. The sea ismud, and the sky has turned to lead. I cannot rubit off because the paint underneath is wet. Its get-ting dark, and I must catch the train. Curse theluck! I 11 never do such a thing again. When Iget a picture finished, and any damn fool wants tobuy it, I will leave it alone whether I like it or not. When Pop reached home that evening it was quiteevident to mother that something had gone wrongwith his work. She always knew, and although hewas very glum and wanted to be let alone, she, withan art of her own, drew the whole story out bit by bit,and when he had finished she sent him to bed con- 142. m;\v YORK II vinced by her wise arguments that he had improvedthe picture, and with a few deft strokes could bringit bark to perfection in the morning. The next day, upon reaching the studio, he wasstill of the opinion that it had hern for the best thathe had blotted out that stupid sea picture, givinghim a real opportunity to make a beautiful big rock he changed into an apple-tree. Withthe aid of a palette-knife he scraped off the raging sea,and in its place painted in a rich grass meadow. Inthe middle distance he placed a clump of elm-trees inshadow. He was happy once again, and as he sangand whistled the picture grew. Here was a newproblem to solve, a new idea to bring into being, tocreate. The postman dropped a letter in the slot, but In-ness was in no mood for letters. He scarcely noticedit. When under the fire of inspiration he heard noth-ing, saw nothing, cared for nothing but the thingwhich he was creating. The picture was gr
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Keywords: ., bookaut, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidlifeletters00inne
