Sorta sums up the best laid plans of mice and painters. I have been hunting for days to go out and paint. You see, its that wet time of year here. Clear one minute, raining the next, and oh yeah maybe just with a little hail thrown in for good measure. It can be an effort to cross the yard when a storm cell is passing through.
So this time I went out anyway in the early morning, and the skies were totally uncertain. Threatening rain there and working its way here, to where I was atop this hill, with no cover. Thank goodness lemons, or melons for that matter, do not fall from the sky. But with the uncertainty comes a certain rushed feeling to get it down. Block that canvas in, don't stop to think.
But when I do that, I find that I must redo passages in the studio to be satisfied. Even then, the lemonade from melons doesn't always work. But when the storms come through this part of New Mexico, I am thankful that the house we bought is tidy and tight. But easels are not, and canvasses and panels can and do fly. So often I find myself living with the painting on a small easel in the living room, where it can catch the corner of my eye as I walk pass. I think about it for days, sometimes weeks. This time one hour. I knew it needed to be a darker more threatening kind of experience. Because that was what it was like. My mostly sunny disposition had me putting in blue skies when they were not there. So corrected, here is "Uncertain Skies".
|Uncertain Skies - Êtude #8|
11 x 14 oil on wood panel - Available
Don't look for the lemons or melons. I ate them.