Feb 12, 2024
Media: oil on birch panel, shellac undercoat, unframed
Size: 6x6 in
It's not often I paint abstracted landscapes, but I do love them. This is from my imagination, a merging of memories of being outside at night, before moonrise. All of my other senses wake up when it's hard to see. I can smell the moist earth and the pine, hear the whisper of grasses ruffled by the wind, sense the cooling of the air, and see - as my eyes adjust - the muted, rich colors of night. Shades of blue, green and purple. There is a sense of anticipation as I wait for the stars and moon to give me light. And there is a sense of excitement about being out in a world changed completely from what I know by day. I always feel a little pang of regret when I turn back toward the cabin, even as I pick up speed to hurry toward light, warmth and comfort. It's not often I paint abstracted landscapes, but I do love them. This is from my imagination, a merging of memories of being outside at night, before moonrise. All of my other senses wake up when it's hard to see. I can smell the moist earth and the pine, hear the whisper of grasses ruffled by the wind, sense the cooling of the air, and see - as my eyes adjust - the muted, rich colors of night. Shades of blue, green and purple. There is a sense of anticipation as I wait for the stars and moon to give me light. And there is a sense of excitement about being out in a world changed completely from what I know by day. I always feel a little pang of regret when I turn back toward the cabin, even as I pick up speed to hurry toward light, warmth and comfort. |