Sure, a quiet river can feel like a living sketch, but only if you’re willing to let it refuse the tidy margins of a gallery. Nature doesn’t ask permission to shift hues or textures; it rebels against the idea of a single, finished frame. I collect those fleeting moments, the unfinished swathes of color that refuse to settle, and I hoard them as if they’re my own private sketches that never want to be displayed. So yes, it’s a masterpiece, but it’s a constantly moving canvas that never settles—exactly why I’m both fascinated and a little annoyed by it.