Afternoon light at two tens below zero, somewhere in the West Elks. I liked how the two little aspens seemed to be playing in their little sliver of sunlight before the shadows of the old spruce-fir forest put them to bed for the night. I really need to take the time to come up with better titles. Happy Tofurkey Day.
I think I've realized why I'm so drawn to these silos...they bend and reflect light just like giant aspen trunks. They have the same finish as aspen bark, a powdery matte with just enough of a satin tinge to reflect their surroundings, and the same linen coloring, like canvases waiting for the day to paint them. Cool, eh? Well, I think so.
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. Cheers. nodp
This is our shepherd, Zoe. She's very sad because our computer has decided to stop recognizing any of its USB ports, preventing me from uploading any new work. We'll try to consult with someone smarter than us and get things working again. Thanks for checking in. NODP
The Jackson Street silos again, just off of Main in Moscow. This is the view from Hawg's Grill. I've never eaten there, but Hawg was nice enough to help me push our old VW when it died right in front of his place. This is one of my favorites.
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.
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 wish i was strong enough with color to knock it back like the good tonalists do. This would be a stronger piece had i focused on a complementary underpainting, but overall i like the feel of it. New ground for me.
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.
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 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 don't know why I keep coming back to this creek, but it probably has something to do with the fact that it flows right by our house. The snow flurries fled east, up the slopes of Moscow Mountain, just in time to reveal this absolutely blinding sunset.
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.
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I am using this blog as a catalyst, to inspire me to paint every day. There are forms, compositions and color juxtapositions everywhere i look, provided that i take the time to do so. So if you see that i haven't posted a painting in several days, leave me a comment deriding me for my laziness and lack of artistic conviction. I have no excuse not to put brush to canvas, regardless of the subject matter around me. I hope you enjoy the results.