I ordered a roll of raw canvas duck a few days ago and find myself very anxious for it to get here! I want to stretch canvases and paint! Gearing up to do a series abstracts and botanical watercolor illustrations!
Felt like writing today. (My grammar is a bit rusty, and my attention span a bit short - so please forgive me for my mistakes)
As a child one of my favorite moments was the event of a summer storm. At the first sign of the skies turning rosier, the clouds turning fluffier and the air becoming mysteriously heavy, I’d find a promising looking patch of grass. One full of tall blades of wild barley, dandelions going to seed or flowering clover. There I would sit down, Indian style, in the middle of my childhood homes back yard waiting…watching…observing. I’d observe the insects running back and forth making their last efforts of work before settling in for the coming weather while being serenaded to the lovely composition of thunder rumbling in the distance. To me, thunder was like bass drums announcing a grand parade. My heart would jump with anticipation and expectation for the show to come. The first gentle gusts of wind would stir. The birds would take to wing and start chattering excitedly amongst themselves, joyfully playing on the air currents. Childhood glee would bubble up from deep within the well of my soul. Winds would become stronger and the downdrafts would catch the grass, twirling and frolicking as it caressed my face. Under the spell of the dance, enraptured, with palms held up to the sky, I’d wait. Sometimes the wait was long. Sometimes short. I never once grew impatient. Droplets would begin to fall. Big, warm, refreshing splatters of water bouncing off my skin. The smell of rain would permeate the air. Everything would become silent as if nature and all it’s creatures were bowing down before the majesty of the storm. Even the wind would pause in respect. I’d inhale…one…two…three…holding breath for a short seeming eternity…and then it comes. Like a lover held in ecstasy the sky opens up. The rain falls to the rumbling moans of thunder held within the passions of the wind. Taken by the storm, I’d spring to my bare feet and begin to run feeling the warm earth and wet grass meeting my soles encouraging my feet to move faster. Not a worry in the world to hold me down. Laughing, twirling, singing, arms gracefully flying through the air, my entire soul opened up to the experience I’d dance and sing in the rain. Pure innocence and elation. Freedom…
Then I learned to be ‘responsable’ and wear a raincoat…
Maybe you can relate to this?
Vermillion Reflections, 2004
Acrylics on stretched canvas
Diptych 2 - 40.64 cm x 50.8 cm (16 in x 20 in)
Violet Johnny I, 2005
Mixed media on paper
27.94 cm x 27.94 cm (11 in x 11 in)
Private collection - Lewisville, TX USA
Green Mists, 2005
Acrylic on stretched canvas
40.64 cm x 50.8 cm (16 in x 20 in)