On north light

The north window has stopped giving me what I want. Or I have stopped knowing what to ask of it. The same window that gave me Morning Table last spring now feels like a wall — the light comes through but it doesn't do anything when it gets here.

I think this happens to all painters who work with one light source for too long. The eye learns the room and stops surprising itself. The fix, when it works, is usually about closing the door for a few weeks. Painting from memory. Then coming back.

Or moving the table.