A Murmur of compulsion in the gut.

The ruse I set for myself is to do something...anything...to this painting everyday for a week no matter how beautiful it may seem at any point.
Today the first thing my intuition whispered to me was to put a thick white layer across the middle.  I wanted the top part of the white to have horizontal strokes, loose and juicy with oil and paint thinner.  Then, underneath I want thicker dryer white applied with a really wide house painter's brush.
Once that was done the top just needed blue.  But it had to be cerulean blue.  The color of the sky at high noon.
Then came a slice of burnt sienna just above the black followed by a thin wash of that same brown over the "flying white" that was along the bottom.
And last but not least...a few touches of brownish black along the top to tie in the top with the bottom of the painting.

What you can't see here is all the quiet sitting and waiting time in between each of these moves.  Watching and listening.  Listening with my eyes.  When I do these kind of paintings I don't have music playing.   And I often turn the lights down a bit.  I listen for whispers of intuition.  A murmur of compulsion in the gut.