Spiritual magnetism--paintings and a story

Magnetism. It's more than a physical property of the scientific and natural world.

There are places and people that can attract, or less often, repel you for that matter, in sometimes unexplainable ways. You know who they have been, who and what they are. You can feel the pull.

 

Rainwater reflection

For me, one of those places has been the remote east faces of the Manzano Mountains in New Mexico, along with its back roads and isolated villages. And one very old little Catholic church building. 

The force of that magnetic field increased this last month, and I succumbed a week ago, headed especially to see the church of San Antonio at the village of Tajique, population 148,  in the Estancia Valley Catholic Parish. I'm guessing it was originally built in the 1830s when this territory was part of Mexico. 

My watercolor, Dad's oil

I know some of the reasons, having spent part of my childhood in those mountains, and because of the pull of back roads, and in this case, because both my Dad and I have painted that church. Two of those paintings hang in our living room, as well as my Dad's sunflower and Manzano peaks painting over our mantel. I see them every day, traveling in my imagination and memories.
You can see I've exaggerated the nearness of the Manzano Mountains in the background, including the pointed Mosca Peak, over 9,000 feet high--the church is at 6,700 feet. I try to paint what I feel, and the magnetism of those mountains is strong.

Most recent, 8 x 10, for friend M.J. VanDeventer

My new photo above is in early morning, 65 degrees, after a thunderstorm captured the place. The parishioners have added a rock exterior and changed the bell tower since I last visited.  But I'm still drawn to the place, and to the fascinating variety of tombstones in the surrounding Campo Santo.

My photo from years ago

I've painted it at least three times, based on memory and photos and its magnetic attraction. One time when I drove by, a wedding was in process, with the newlyweds coming out the front door. 

The last time I took a photo of it, in black and white on a gray day some 30 years ago, it was much plainer. There's nothing plain about it magnetically.

My largest, 22 x 30

The Manzano magnetism of Mosca peak

A month of watercolor painting

Here they are, 32 paintings from July, surpassing the 31 daily challenge from #worldwatercolormonth. 
Some favorites, near the bottom, and some not so favorites. There are 32 because I failed one day's challenge--mountain climbing no less. But, I did two roadrunners and two mermaids, and two unicorns. And atoned for the failure by painting the Truchas peaks on Day 30.
For the record, here are the daily challenges. Can you pick them out?

• Sunny Days--July sunrise walker
• Delicious Food--Cezanne apples
• Primary Colors--brushes
• Family Moments--fieworkds
• Shades of blue--ocean
• Simple things--red wagon
• Playing games--abstract chess
• Flying things--witch
• Climbing mountains--oops
• Light and luminous--morning light at house
• Beautiful blooms--not shown, for sale at gallery (Purple creation)
• Forest animals--Unicorn
• Fast and loose--Roadrunner
• Sweet treats--snowcone
• On the beach--Red bikini
• Casting shadows--Trump's swastika
• City life--OKC dawn runner
• In the jungle—Conrad's Heart of Darnkness
• Rainy Days--cabin
• Wet & Dry--Martini
• Glorious golds--unicorn
• Under the sea—mermaid
• Furry creatures—cats
• Mono mood--blue station
• Farm life—panhandle elevators
• Splashing around—sunset surf
• Clouds in sky--thunderhead
• Nature hike—man with cane
• Childhood memory—streetcar
• Exotic location--Truchas, cabin
• Celebration of color--creation

"And God created...Color!"--Creation!

"Creation," 8 x 10, 140 lb. d'Arches cold press paper

"Celebration of Color," concluded the #watercolor prompts for the 31 days of July, #Worldwatercolormonth.
Color, the spectrum, light. Genesis. The Big Bang. What you see in a rainbow. No light, no life. Science, faith.
Art is creativity, a child of creation, regardless of beliefs. Do they not all merge together?
Here is what brewed in my head and heart and the primordial soup of creation, for today's #watercolor: The spectrum of color, the spectrum of light, the spectrum of life. 
Celebration, appropriate ending and beginning to 31 days of watercolor.

Red head Magic of mermaids

Red headed magic, 5 x 7 140 lb. Farbriano Artistico cold press paper

Magic? Of course. If you can imagine it, who can say it's not real? One of Neptune's twin daughters, #watercolor, but she needs a name.

Exotic Enchantment

"Enchantment," 5 x 7 140 lb Fabriano Artisitico cold press paer

What do you think of when you hear the term exotic places? Probably a beach on a south Pacific Island?  Me too, but not just there. I could choose the moors of Scotland, or almost anyplace with tall mountains and few people.
There are several definitions to the term exotic, coming from Greek and Latin "exo" meaning "alien, " or "from the outside."
It's used today for plants or anything introduced from another country, or not indigenous; anything strange, different, mysterious, exciting, romantic (how it's meant for this prompt); or having to do with strip tease.
I guess I could have tried to paint an exotic pole dancer, but...

Every person probably has different exotic places in their imaginations and memories, and the Truchas Peaks in northern New Mexico, towering over 13,000 rugged feet into the sky, captivate me. I wish I had the youth and lung capacity to get to the remote top, but that probably isn't going to happen. I  photograph them often as their mood and light always changes. No wonder they're exotic, exceeding all those descriptions.
Then add a cabin near those mountains, a metaphor for exotic to me anytime.