Sandia Sunset

Sandia Sunset, daily watercolor, 5 x 7 140 lb. Fabriano Artistico cold press paper

The Sandia Mountains loom over Albuquerque, and when you grow up there, perhaps taking them for granted, they imprint on your consciousness for the rest of your life.
I've tried to paint them many times, never as accurately or passionately as my dad, but they're always there in my mind and soul. 

Hurley's storm over the Sandias

You forget sometimes, until you return to New Mexico and Albuquerque, and they dominate the Eastern skyline, 5,000 feet above the city. If I forget, I'm always reminded by Wilson Hurley's gigantic triptych at the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum. I go and gaze and almost worship in awe. 
Of course, my brother and I have some of Dad's oil paintings in our homes, and I have several of my smaller watercolors here well. And views, photos of the Sandias always grab my attention--they're dramatic because of their height, their color and how they change the weather, at the east edge of the Great Plains on one side, and the Rio Grande valley on the west.
The Sandias, named by the conquistadors 500 years ago as they marched homesick and thirsty up the Rio Grande valley, at sunset, look like a watermelon, with a green rind on top and the granite face turning red in the sunset. Thus the Spanish name, "Sandia."
They loom over me as well, and make my happy.

(Daily #worldwatercolorgroup January paint happy things challenge)

Earlier paintings, photos:

• First Attempt
• Rifts in abstract