I live overlooking a river, large enough to be named "Lake Loudon." There's a ridge of land on the other side of the water.

Rather like the stripes running across this pieces in this section, the horizontal ridge divides the water below from the sky above.

The feeling I experience gazing at that scene provides the concrete representational underpinnings of the associated series.

I didn't realize that link at first because I was operating (consciously, at least) from a different sense of the world: Namely, on another level, in my mind, this painting and the rest of the pieces in this series depict an old idea that has fascinated me since the Sixties (if you consider that old) when I read a book by G. Spencer Brown called The Laws of Form. I don't really understand it (the author was more than a little cryptic), but still, he provided a fascinating presentation of how we create something from nothing by simply drawing a distinction. Brief example: Take a piece of paper. Draw a mark across it. Where, before there was simply a whole piece of paper, you have now drawn a distinction that breaks that whole (nothing) into two parts (now this something on one side of the line from that something on the other).

Which, of course, is exactly what the horizontal mark across the painting introduces.