When you can see time

 

"Time Zones," 5 x 7 acrylic on canvas panel

Time--One of the many reasons I love the Southwest.

Out here,  the geology of this aging earth is always visible in dramatic landforms, constantly changing skies, light, colors and weather. 

So many stories laid one on top of the  other like the strata of sedimentary rocks, evidence of deep time. So many unanswered questions, like the mysteries of geologic unconformaties and fossils, gaps in knowledge of millions of years, all in front of our eyes. 

So many lessons of how recent we are, how small we are, how brief our lives. Out here  you can see forever,  into the universe and its daily reminders of time deeper than the rocks, the moon, the sun, the stars.

Thus today's little painting, part of what may be my desert series, with a multi-layered title, especially as another man-made month ends, and man-made time "zones" mean nothing--where you can see time.

 

When a moon rises

"Desert Moonrise," 5 x 7 acrylic on canvas board

 We're halfway between full moons according to our calendar, though ancients measured time by the phases of the moon.

The full moon influences more than just ocean tides, but those of moods, memories and more.

So here's today's little painting, thinking of time passing.

"We will survive," Calm before Storm, and Ukraine's colors

"We Will Survive, dedicated to the Ukraine, 24 x 30 acrylic on canvas

 Finished. My largest painting, "Calm Before the Storm."

While it was in progress I noticed it featured the colors of Ukraine, battling the monstrous Russian invasion. 

So my title has changed, "We will Survive."

As most have on the Great Plains of America, through hardship, drought and violent weather. 

This will be available in two weeks at  my @InYourEyeStudio&Gallery and in time for the @Paseo Arts District  Arts Festival May 28-30.

Dedicated to the real patriots, not with words, but fighting with their lives in Ukraine. Death to tyrants, here and everywhere.

The Challenge of Skies and Paint--story

Almost. I've been staring at the blank canvas for a few months now, trying to get the nerve to challenge myself to try something that large. 

"Before the Storm," 24 x 30 acrylic on canvas, palette knives and brushes, 

Finally, the weather improved enough to set the 24 by 30 canvas up on the easel on the back porch. I'd recently sold an 11 x 14 of clouds moving across the Great Plains, from a photo I'd taken a few years ago.

I didn't want to try to copy that painting, because that just adds to the stress, and I'm uptight enough. But the idea and the colors seemed appropriate for a large canvas.

The painting is almost done, but like any journalist with time, I've learned its best to sleep on a project before putting the finishing touches on it, making final touch ups (editing). It's taken several days to get to this point. 

Today I tackled the foreground, which always intimidates me the most, and where I have ruined other paintings.  I picked up the brushes, mixed some colors and just started working.

So here it is,  first titled "Angry Skies,"  but now I think "Before the Storm," tells a better story. And here are the stages, the reference photo, and the previous painting.

Easter Morning Thoughts

"Sunrise in the Judean Wilderness," 5 x 7 acrylic on canvas panel

Easter morning thoughts. Silence. Simplicity. Grief. Hope. Judea. Desert. Light not darkness. 

Palette knives.