I want to paint a red wolf, standing perplexed, howling at the distant moon, as the smell of pine cones fills the air, in the starry midnight sky. The rotten, whispering  leaves glide  down from the tall Autumn trees as tall as a sad, snowy mountain.

I want to paint a tall treacherous tree house, in a damp, green rainforest as the rain falls heavily on the brown, battered bridge, leading to the lush green tree tops of the amazon.