A few lines from a Wallace Stevens poem follow up on yesterday and lead to the next version of that same untitled painting, below:
... The sky is too blue, the earth too wide.
The thought of her takes her away.
The form of her in something else
Is not enough.... (Section IV, from "Bouquet of belle Scavoir")
The background has grown more blue, a little green, some yellows, and the form is still taking shape, and is (not yet) "enough":