Monday, December 26, 2016

Frosted Gingerbread

"Frosted Gingerbread"
24" x 14"
Acrylic on a reclaimed cabinet door

It was January, and we were heading to Salt Lake City. It was snowing like hell as we drove up the hill to Hesperus, cars spinning like ballerinas in slow motion despite their cautious creeping. It was a white-knuckler, for sure. 

That was the worst of it. Eventually the road got better and the snow lightened up. By the time we crossed into Utah, our shoulders were less bunched, our breathing more calm, and I finally let go of the "oh shit" handle as we drove out of the back end of the storm that was moving east.

The clouds seemed to break suddenly, erupting in blue sky and silvery bright sunshine that heightened the contrast of the red rocks iced in a thick layer of snow. It looked like frosted gingerbread.

I guess I was missing the cooler temperatures when I began this painting over the summer just before we moved. It was sweltering in that hot box we called home. Looking for respite, I took myself back to that cold day in January.

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