However, I like the liveliness of the brushwork and the contrast between the dark trees in the middle distance and the colours of the foreground and horizon. In my efforts to pursue accuracy I find it easy to lose visible brushwork altogether and I usually end up regretting it.
I suppose, in the end, I struggle with the question of what sort of painter I want to be. On the one hand I adore the virtuosity of Sargent's and Sorolla's brushwork. On the other hand, I find the flawless finish of David, Ingres, or Delaroche (even, dare I say, Bouguereau whose subject matter I find too sickly sweet to really love) truly staggering and long to paint the same way. It's a hard road ahead whichever direction I go, but if I get just a mile or two down either track I'd be a happy painter!