I started this painting years ago, and mentioned it on this blog about one year ago, and I think I’ve finally finished it. I find calling a painting “finished” a difficult thing. There’s always something I could touch up. Or fix. Or adjust. But at some point, I need to stop fiddling with the piece, so I hang it on the wall and eventually, months and sometimes years later, it finally feels done. Cooked through. Complete. Baked.