Inspired by Edna St. Vincent Millay’s poem of the same name.  The eponymous swans are thrilling, larger than life, their feathers pure as the clouds, freedom made physical.  Meanwhile, down on earth, the landscape seems prettified, pleasantly civilized into a quilt.  Two swans, lower in the sky, made of quilt pieces, fly up like our hearts at the change of season, ready to travel the sky. This is a painting about that feeling I get in very early Spring, when I hear the geese or see the wild swans going over, and suddenly, daily life is completely irrelevant.  All I want is to be moving over the earth, under the open sky, with uncombed hair.  I hope Edna would have liked my painting.  I love her poem.