preliminary study...

...for a painting that never happened. I never knew what to think of this sketch of a track I loved to walk, near the village of Glamondans, Franche-Comté. Perhaps a bit too wintery. I always liked this dead tree (an ash?) for its twisted elegance. Every time I wondered if it would still be there next time I visited. It wasn't, last time, at least not in its twisted elegant bony form. It was a pile of firewood.