Walking the dog this morning, I saw green buds pushing out on the willow branches by the river. A light breeze passed through, and the branches tilted upward. It suddenly struck me that whatever school of painting it belongs to, if it can express the beauty of this moment, this "willows stirred by a light breeze," then it could be a masterpiece.
What, exactly, is the relationship between aesthetic feeling and technique? I still do not know.
Is aesthetic feeling the sun? Or a mirror? Or some other invented thing?