I am going to stick with the mundane for a bit. This was my compost pile and a very thoughtful wedding present, my wheelbarrow. Inspiration is a fickle thing. Sometimes it is better to prime the well, rather than wait for inspiration to strike. I have painted several lawnmowers, rakes, tillers, keys, and several versions of my left hand toward this end. I have found something of value in each piece. In this painting, I imagine the barrow as a fighter in the corner of the ring. The corner is the essence here. The sound of a basketball being dribbled and the squeak of a swing comes from the adjacent yard. To borrow from Master Ross, it is a happy rot.