9" X 12"
I could probably paint the skies of Colorado the rest of my days and never duplicate my efforts. Southwest Colorado, with its big ole bowl of sky, affords the cloudwatchers like me plenty of entertainment.
Every day is a new show of shapes and colors. Then, there is the rain: from a whisper of virga, to a pale veil falling to earth, to an impenetrable curtain of purples and blues. Up on our mesa we see the entire show come and go as the storm blows through. Some days we jealously watch the rain dance around us, forsaking us for the mountains to the north or the desert to the south.
Over the Fourth, to celebrate my independence, I set aside an afternoon to paint. I’d been dreaming of layered clouds with crests lit by the warmth of the setting sun. This painting sprang from memory after months of cloudwatching.