When my best friend was dying I flew out to Indiana to be with her. We arranged to have her taken home from the hospital. They wouldn’t let me ride in the ambulance in the back with her so I rode up front. It was late afternoon, early Fall, with the long light piercing through the woods, illuminating the bits of gold in the green. The road curved through the woods, a blue-lavender song. The painting is the tale of that ride. It came out like Dr Seuss on acid, but I think Indigo would have liked that.