Monday, May 31, 2010
We have pulled into the access lane of a property that is for sale. I paint from the passenger seat this time, setting my easel by my feet and opening the window, as the rain is blowing from the other side. The arms and shoulders of the valley are velvet, a slight green and golden nap over the brown earth. I underpainted with a soft reddish terracotta and delight in how the weave of the canvas accepts a soft slanted stroke on the high points - a velvet stroke. As I paint, I live here - with each stroke this becomes my place.
A Mockingbird sings his double repeating, ever varying repertoire into the evening rain, and I paint until I lose the light.
Posted by Aleta Karstad at 7:28 PM