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[[block indent]]That night the moon came up just as the sun went down, and, for a few minutes, the furrows were lit up from both sides - by the sinking sun on one side and the rising moon on the other. The noise from the tractors was deafening, and they rattled and bounced across that field, but it was a beautiful sight. Later that night, the stars came out. Then a storm came up, and huge clouds piled up in the sky to hide the stars, but it blew over fast and the stars came out again.

    'Long about midnight, one of the other drivers ambled over to me. He was black with dust, but there were white circles around his eyes outlining the goggles he wore while plowing. I remember that he reminded me of a bear. He came over, looked up at the sky, and said, "It looks like a clear day tomorrow."

    I could never understand before how people stood the terrible monotony of farm life, of working the land. But, after that night, I think I learned why people do it and why they love the life.[[/block indent]]

    After these brief interludes, however, Rosenquist always returned to New York, where he continued painting. He managed to maintain a loft while working at various jobs and painted whenever he had a free moment. During this period, Rosenquist experimented with various styles and media which were mostly in the abstract-expressionist vein.

    As an artist, Rosenquist was something of a loner. He never was a part of any particular circle and worked, for the most part, by himself. Occasionally he would make a tour of the New York museums and galleries, but these were rare events. He preferred to rely on himself, to develop a style that was independent of the things being done around him. In this way, Rosenquist worked steadily, perfecting the skills and techniques of the painter. He felt the need, however, to devote more of his time to his art. He needed long stretches of undisturbed time to think and work.

[[block indent]]By the early part of 1960, I had managed to save enough money from my regular jobs to live on for a year if I managed carefully. This year would be devoted completely to painting. I got a loft down in Coenties Slip, below the financial district, and, for the first time since I got out of school, I was able to spend whole days and weeks in the loft. Most of the time I would paint, but there were also long stretches when I just sat there and thought without any interruptions. Sometimes I sat there from 9 in the morning until 4 in the afternoon watching other[[/block indent]]

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