Near Swampy Pass, in the West Elks.
SOLD


24"x36", Acrylic/Canvas ![]() | Colour, Obsession, Joy and Torment |
We're about to ship this wonderful example of modern technology off to places unknown so that people or machines unnamed can perform some witchcrafty transplants or transfusions on its vital hardware organs. We should be up and running with our fancy new desktop soon, at which time I'll be able to upload, provided i can figure out how even modern-er technology works. 7"x5", Acrylic/Canvas Panel
This might actually be 5th st.... Anyway, it's the street the Moscow police station is on.$100 + $7 shipping




A very simple, somewhat abstracted view of some utility poles downtown. I liked how different each orientation felt as I spun the canvas to paint it, so I thought I'd show them all (these are all the same painting, for the record). It's to the point where I'm really not sure which view I started with.
I'm off to Colorado tomorrow for a show at The Rijks Gallery, and I think I'm bringing this guy with me. So.....posts, if any, will be sporadic for the next week. Contact the gallery or me if interested in this piece. Take care.
I've been chased down this valley by more rain, hail, and snow storms than I care to count. I remember snow-shoeing up here on an absolutely bluebird day a few winters ago, when the typical afternoon puffers combined into a boiling wall of cloud over West Elk Peak. I bounced back down-valley to the trailhead, feeling chased the whole way. On the short drive back to Ohio Creek, the shadow from the front literally passed me. I was driving about forty miles an hour, and it swallowed me. I watched it move down my hood and speed up the road to the west. In my rearview mirror there was nothing but a swirling vortex of white and gray...no mountains, no sky, no road. Not only did the thing pass me, but it managed to drop about two inches of snow in the five minutes it took me to get back to pavement. That weather was possessed. And it was wonderful.
Seeing as how it snowed about an inch this morning, and the fact that it is currently 34 degrees outside, i thought i'd play around with Spring, in all its technicolor glory. I can no longer look at the color green without seeing orange underneath it. Or within it. Or maybe just next to it. Some preposition, anyway.
I've finally gotten my studio set up in our new old house. It seems like the light in here will be decent, which is really all that matters. This is another painting of the grove on Swampy Pass, which is probably the best leaf-peeping hike in the world. Check my website for more aspen work.
I've spent most of the last week roughing this one in. That, combined with the fact that we moved this weekend and that our computer froze for three days, has kept me from posting. This one might be at 80%...I'm not really sure. The values need some work. This is the biggest canvas I've worked on, and I'm not sure if it will fit in my jeep to take to the gallery. I could measure, but i prefer to just cross my fingers. Email me if interested in the finished piece.
A large piece that I just finished, probably for an upcoming show. It felt good to put some miles on the bigger brushes. This is on gallery wrapped canvas, and I think I'll paint the edges of it. I was a bit stumped on a title for this one. The trifurcation of colors reminded me of Rothko, if not the colors themselves. As always, I reserve the right to come up with a more clever title.
I've been on the road alot lately. I liked the contrast of shapes in this one. This is I-15 north-bound again, between Salt Lake and Ogden. Rush hour traffic there is a pain, but the light is good this time of year if you are dumb enough to look while driving. I am. Have you ever tried to navigate in heavy, stop and go traffic while looking through a camera lense? You probably shouldn't.
I don't get to use a bold green very often. I find that Ma Nature's green is usually shifted one way or another on the wheel. That's why this plywood door caught my eye. This is another building on the new-development chopping block. Is it just me, or does it kind of looks like it's yelling at you? $100 + $7 shipping
Watching the darkness of space recede towards the zenith as a new day begins. It's mind boggling to think of all the motion involved here...driving at a certain speed, beneath clouds that are moving at their own pace, chasing the sun as it arcs across the sky, all on a spinning earth, each going in its own direction, like cogs driving each other around. And somehow it all stays together. You think about odd things when you drive a billion miles a year. I think this one would be fun on a six foot canvas.
I spend a great deal of time painting trees, writing about trees, thinking about trees...but rarely do I stop to consider these monuments to forests gone by. They used to carry birds' nests and bugs, the sun and the wind amidst their leaves or needles. Now, many of them carry that magical electron that allows so many of us (myself included) to get soft and lazy. Trees have never struck me as vengeful beings, but if they were...what a sweet revenge it must be.
I was out chasing clouds when I looked up the hill and saw these cattle backdropped by the last bit of daylight. It immediately reminded me of that scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark, when Indy and his workers are digging for the Ark, silhouetted by the the dawn. These cows weren't doing anything that cool.
"I was used to a sun that came up over mountains and went down behind other mountains. I missed the color and smell of sagebrush, and the site of bare ground."
I've always tried to use a very limited palette....basically a warm and cool of each primary, white, and burnt umber as a filler when mixing darks. The sky is a different color here, so a few weeks ago, with much fanfare, i thought i would reward myself with a new blue. It has touched my palette once. It's so foreign and strange trying to assimilate it into the drawer with the old tried and true tubes.
I just returned from a trip to Colorado to stock the gallery, and I brought back a few old paintings. I thought it would be fun to get some files of them and post them. I've always really liked the simple composition and brushwork of this one. This was about five or six years and apartments ago... strange to think about. My husky was young then, and she systematically destroyed that couch. She unstitched the piping and ripped the arms down to the particle board frame. Oh well...it was an ugly couch anyway. Still have the guitar. And the husky.$395 + $35 U.S. shipping
This is the Taylor breaking free from this winter's record snowfall. The snowpack is so thick that many people along the Gunnison are scrambling to buy flood insurance in case of a rapid thaw this spring. Even the old-timers say they can't remember this much snow. Wild. I'm feeling this one out for a larger canvas.
This is the trial run for a much larger painting. The big piece can be seen on my website, http://www.zthurmondfineart.com/.
This one is four houses ago, at my old cabin. That kitchen had great light. The floor was bare concrete, painted turquoise, which sounds awful but really wasn't. It worked. I still have that mug. For the record, the perspective is skewed on purpose. I wanted it to feel like you were going to fall into the mug. Not sure if that worked, but i like the light. I remember being on a Pthalo green kick with this one, especially in the lighter shadow and the highlight on the edge of the sink. Strange what we remember at random, eh?