Forward-facing, I see sharpened pencils, clean brushes, and new tubes of paint, waiting to be dispensed and dispersed on blank canvases and paper.
First, I look back to visions of water lilies, haystacks, dancers, the streets of Paris. How and why did this style come to be? A revolt of sorts, I suppose. . .but I may have to get my art history book out and take a closer look (again) at this movement.
Do I see some experimenting in Impressionism in my future? Perhaps. . .