Paintings - Landscape
Sketching by the river is like chanting. The sound of the water and the rhythm of my brush wash way sticky thoughts clearing my mind.
Mid-spring the moss is rich and full. I perch on a rock and capture as much as I can before it is time to go. Time can be the best editor.
Hopping across the river where it narrows before dropping into a pool I turn and a fern grotto is relieved.
I went out sketching at the time when day turns towards the evening and the light in the woods drops. The air became still and silent as if I was the only one there.
I am so seduced by subtly and ambiguity that I almost always reach a point after laying in the watercolor where I ask, “should I add definition?” My sketching partner answered, “yes” and I did.