Somewhere in the far reaches of the night, my idea for painting this inward-looking child sprouted wings. Over the top, I mumbled, definitely over the top. Nonetheless. As the painting developed, I was fascinated how I referred back constantly to my photo reference, staring at the place where the wings would have been, if the wings had been there. And so then they were. (There was also an idea for a companion piece, myself with unicorn’s horn. Not yet manifested. Perhaps if I stare in the mirror long enough?)