This painting almost broke me. I did it several weeks ago, was excited to try cacti, and was dreaming of a potential spring visit to New Mexico. As I worked on the foreground I scraped part of it off to restart and heard a yell of dispair from my husband who said I had erased his favorite part and ruined it. I spent hours after that trying to recreate what I had removed, and in turn removed the scene over and over again. My chest was tight and my heart was heavy. Eventually I gave up trying to make what I had already made and just finished it however I could. I hated the way I felt when I finished it. So I hated the outcome. I only saw some sort of backdrop for a wiley coyote chasing a road runner now. But after weeks of hiding this from you guys, I needed to upload it. And you know what? It's not as bad as I remember. And I've finally started painting again. I'm embarrassed I let that experience keep me from my new hobby for so long. This isn't a search for pity comments, but more an admission and hope that others can relate to the experience that I had. Still liked doing cacti. Even hid a little prickly pear in there, do you see him? My last revenge on this piece!