Drama on the caprock

"Dawn on the Caprock," 5 x 7 watercolor, 140 lb. Fabriano Artistico cold press

When you drive across the Texas panhandle the sweeping horizons of the Llano Estacado may seem flat, but there is always drama, either in the skies or in the changing landscapes.

Especially in the morning or evening when you approach the caprock  and canyons from any direction, there is beauty and a sense of space, a sense of being alone.

The word "caprock" describes a geological feature of West Texas and Eastern New Mexico at the edge of the plains. You have to live in out there to really know the word and what it means, a caliche cap on underlying the Llano. The same feature shows up along the canyons and gullies throughout those plains. To me, they're always inspiring, something I hope to capture the essence of. Beauty and variety in a landscape many ignore.

Today's little watercolor is a study for a larger painting, I hope. I've been struggling with composition on this one, after several pencil value sketches that have constantly changed. I am not sure I'm there yet, but a small study gives me freedom and ideas for possibilities.

Golden Hour

"Golden Hour on the Great Plains," 8 x 10 watercolor, 140 lb d'Arches rough press paper

 I think more and more about how small we are as humans, on this planet, in creation.

The more I read, the more I learn, the more I experience spiritually, I'm awed by our existence. I've had this urge to paint the feeling of the word "small."

Whether you consider the landscape--mountains or prairies or oceans, it's all a bit overwhelming. But I do no how it fees to be on the back roads on the Great Plains. I first thought of the title, "Life on the Llano," but that will wait for another day. And it was worth another experiment with complementary colors--oranges and purples.

Today's watercolor comes close...Golden Hour on the Great Plains

Mauve Morning

"Mauve Morning," 5 x 7, 140 lb d'Arches cold press paper

When you leave the New Mexico mountains, heading east into the Great Plains for the long drive to Oklahoma, it is best to start early.

Early as in before sun-up, but not before there is some light when the colors of dawn dominate  the horizon. Before that, deer on the road would mean disaster at 70 mph. 

But as the sky brightens, the multi-colored dawn makes the dramatic Southwestern landscape even more enchanted minute by minute, and there is almost no traffic for about 80 miles. 

In another hour, the sun will be up, and the land east of Raton, New Mexico,  will flatten and the trip becomes one of endurance, of the Texan Llano Estacado, of fields of crops and pastures, of almost constant wind and heavy truck traffic.

So it was recently for us, and I wish we would have stopped to take photos of the rugged volcanic landscape, wide open vistas,  and the sky, the sky. But we were hurrying home.

Today's little watercolor comes from my imagination and general impression of those magic moments--"When dawn spreads its paintbrush on the plains," in the words of the theme song of the old TV show, Wagon Train, quoted  in my blog title. (Incidentally, that photo  at the top of the blog was taken about the same time of day, east of Cimarron a few years ago).

This painting was a discovery for me, as was the drive that morning, trying to mix colors to get "mauve," the overriding colors of dawn. two earlier and largest attempts were unsuccessful

On the Llano Estacado

"Llano Estacado," 6 1/2 by 10" watercolor, 140 lb d'Arches cold press pape

"This jagged landscape filled
with harsh formations
rising in rugged
abrupt relief
is beautiful."
     --From "Llano Estacado," in Sunlight & Cedar, --Ken Hada

Llano Estacado. The "Staked Plains" of the Texas Panhandle and Eastern New Mexico...where flat is deceiving.
A place of magic, of history, unless you had to walk the interminable flat land  like Coronado and the Spaniards looking for gold, or rode horses across them like the U.S Army looking for Comanches 300 years later, instead of speeding along at 75 mph on an Interstate today.
Even today, people seem to think they're boring, featureless, something to get across as quickly as possible. And they're not all flat. They're a land of extremes, of weather, and of geology.
You haven't looked? Or dodged huge thunderstorms, survived ice storms and hai, and blizzards, weathered continual winds, watched for tornadoes, experienced the dust storms, or discovered the canyons and caprock. 
(I've driven them often, especially these recent years when my daughter and son-in-law and grandchildren have moved outside Canyon, 10 miles south of Amarillo. Todd is an MD in the Texas Tech system in Amarillo, and Dallas, besides being a full-time mommy, operates two indie bookstores, Burrowing Owl Books in Canyon and Amarillo.)
That is an aside to the story of today's painting. As with anyplace that still has wild in it, and wide open spaces, there is to me always poetry.
And Ken's poem inspired today's painting. Those verses above are just the opening. If you want the rest, buy his book, or wait for me to review it.
I've had his new book since it came out in July, intending to review it, and that is coming soon. But it takes me time to stew on choosing paints and words especially in dealing with poetry. Ken lives in Ada, and is nationally recognized. Sunlight & Cedar is his eighth poetry collection. The cover carries a photo I expect was taken somewhere along the edges of the Llano in West Texas. 
Today's painting is more impressionistic than two dimensional  as fits the poem and the spirit of the Llano, and I've found that poets think in several dimensions. 
By the way, don't expect the rest of Ken's poem to be flat as the llano. Like the landscape, there are always twists and surprises.

Palo Duro landmark, watercolor

"The Lighthouse," Palo Duro icon, 5 by 7, greeting card watercolor, for Burrowing Owl Books

Palo Duro. Llano Estacado, Comancheria. West Texas. Panhandle.
Where the wildness of the West still pervades every day. Palo Duro Canyon, not far from where my daughter Dallas, her husband Dr. Todd, and my grandchildren Erin, Abby and Max live outside Canyon, on the rim of a canyon.
People who think Amarillo and the Panhandle is flat, haven't traveled. 
Palo Duro, where the musical "Texas" is staged, where tehre is camping, and hiking, and all kinds of critters, is just outside the county seat of Canyon, Texas, a great county seat with a university, West Texas A &M, a place with great schools, and...
Burrowing Owl Books, my daughter's new and used bookstore on the courthouse square, will feature today's watercolor, for cards soon for sale there.
Icon of Palo Duro's fantastic geologic formations, The Lighthouse. More coming.
Biggest challenge for me? Other than all the different angles and light on this icon? Painting vertical. Hey, when you grow up on the Great Plains, horizontal dominates. 

(WorldWatercolor Month, Day 14 challenge).

Palette--all kinds of earthen colors. 

 

West Texas canvas challenge

West Texas canvas, 5 x 7, 300 Lb. d'Arches

Llano Estacado, West Texas Panhandle...those who drive through it at 75 mph think it desolate. Yet is is alive with color and history drama and people...if you slow down and look.
Day two of the July #WorldWatercolorMonth daily challenge, inspired by by daughter Dallas' photo near Canyon, "West Texas Canvas," big skies, wheat, far horizons.

West Texas Canvas, photo by Dallas Bell

 

Where fences tell stories

Morning on the Llano, 7 by 12 watercolor, 140# d'Arches

The Llano Estacado of the Texas Panhandle. Big, empty, wide open spaces where the wind never seems to cease. 
Fences are few and far between, and the old ones have the character of the land...rugged and ragged as the land and the posts. The wind rustling and grass on the fence lines and singing through the old rusting barbed wire.
This old one is long gone now, replaced by more efficient steel posts and new wire but it was just up the road from my daughter and son-in- law's house near Canyon, Texas.

Morning on the Llano Estacado, Texas

Watercolor, inspired by corner post near by daughter and family's house near Canyon, Republic of Texas. 11 by 22, 300 pound d'Arches paper. Photo at top of this blog.

Llano estacado, watercolor

9 by 12, 140 pound d'Arches paper--first attempt.

I saw this monster south of Amarillo Wednesday night after attending church with my daughter, son in law and of course three grandchildren. What's amazing to me is that after a trip to the clouds and spirit of New Mexico--as necessary to my life as seawater to tidal pools--this is my first painting. Susan saw the photo--earlier today on facebook--and ooh'd and ahh'd. Love in its many forms moves spirits. I knew when I took it.

For those of you experienced in the Llano--the Staked Plains--forgive me for adding a little relief to the flat horizon. See the facebook posting for reference. I will do better.

Storm on the Llano Estacado

Watercolor, inspired by fast-moving clouds on the Llano Estacado, the "Staked Plains" of west Texas, where it's so flat a walking man could be lost forever. It's wild country, even with irrigation and settlement. The wind never stops, and without irrigation, the white man would not last. Besides fence posts and a gate with a trace of ruts the only relief is in the caprock country and Palo Duro Canyon, and most of all, in the towering clouds.

That's brewing in my coffee pot.