It had been eight months since I'd seen these, and they'd sat in a stainless steel bucket for the winter. When I dumped them out, all those feelings of excitement came rushing back. I love the smell of the tubes of oil paint. It's an old smell, and it's like I've smelled it for hundreds of years myself. It's one of the most familiar memories I have in life. I felt like I couldn't get to work soon enough. I forced myself to show them some love, and cleaned each one of them, throwing away the ones that had dried beyond use. Color is such a mesmerizing thing to me, and seeing them all helter skelter together on my little blue table made me feel like I could pick any one of them and it would inspire an entire series of paintings.