9 x 12
Oil on Canvas
$600 USD Unframed
The turning point of autumn in Maine is when the hardwoods awaken into passionate shades of red and yellow, transforming the landscape itself into art. This yearly ritual draws people by the thousands to flock here, scouring back roads and venues to witness the fleeting spectacle of the great seasonal crescendo before the inevitable fall. A special foliage forecast appears on the evening weather and like bittersweet lovers, we pray for the affair to last. We know that the cold introspective time of winter soon follows, but we always resist. And the sometimes doddering tourists give the local bubbas new reason to complain, muttering Leaf Peepers, Swivel Necks... and other unflattering names.
I especially love how the wispy marsh grasses transform into a sea of fire. In order to capture this view, I toted unwieldy painting supplies over the rocky underside of a marsh river bridge at low tide, teetering and ducking the underpinnings and then weathering the highway noise directly behind me while painting -- including the truckers and their horns. It is the ultimate artist's mastery school to attain focus in the midst of this cacophony-- no tuition, just an investment of time. But to dabble in this fiery palette was a treat, and I had been driving by this scene for years, nose nearly pressed to the window with longing yet wondering how to access it. As a wise friend once said, you have to get out of the car to find the best stuff. All the best jewels of nature are hidden from the brief passers by.
It seems fitting that "FIRE" would be the last image of the season before the long winter. As always, I wonder if I will be able to recall the warmth of the sun and the moment when it is long past. Thankfully, I always do.
Monday, February 9, 2009
The Art of the Fall