InSpire-ation

 

InSpire-ation

16” x 20”
Watercolor

In October we took a quick trip to Santa Fe for my birthday to look at art. We probably walked a hundred miles and saw plenty of art (some good, some not so good). It was awesome! As we wandered the galleries along Canyon Road, we came across L’Ecole Des Beaux Arts, a studio that sells beautiful handmade watercolors.

It was love at first sight. It was all I could do to limit myself to just a few colors. Clint patiently waited while I took forever to decide on what to buy. Had I recently won the lottery I would have bought at least one of everything.

I couldn’t wait to get home and try out my new colors—and on the way home, I found inspiration along highway 84. This road is one of my favorites. From Tierra Amarilla to Abiquiu, it is a visual delight; and when the sun is low in the sky, it’s breathtaking.

I can’t tell you the name of this feature, however I always seem to snap a photo of it as we near the end of a long, spectacular valley filled with amazing geological features and rocks of every color of the rainbow.

I used a couple of wonderful earthy browns, the luscious pale purple, and a yummy metallic copper from L’Ecole Des Beaux Arts in this piece. I can’t wait to go back and pick up a few more colors!

Between Here and There

Between Here and There

24” X 18”

Acrylic on Canvas

There’s a lot of beautiful country out there and sunset makes just about anywhere beautiful—not that this is “just anywhere.” This painting is from I photo I took somewhere outside of Kanab, Utah when traveling between Durango and Wrightwood. 

The color on the landscape helped revive us as we neared the end of a long day on the road. We pulled into Kanab just after dark, hungry and windshield weary, but glad to have enjoyed the breathtaking light show during the last few miles as the sun dropped below the horizon.

A New Day

"A New Day"

14" X 10"

Watercolor

We hadn’t been camping in I-don’t-know-how-long—more than a year (the horror!). We planned to meet up with our dearest hiking and camping compadres near Flagstaff and camp near Sunset Crater. We were beyond excited.

The first day a few of us hiked up out of Lockett Meadow towards Inner Basin. It was steamy, but beautiful climbing the trail through the dense aspens. One of our younger hikers, 8-year-old Joe, said, “This place is like a dream.” It was.

The next day, we went from wandering Wapatki in the intense heat to shivering around the picnic table that evening as it poured down rain. In classic monsoonal fashion, the storm gathered itself for an afternoon show, starting with cracks of lightning and rolls of thunder that rattled your bones. A few close strikes had us involuntarily erupting in shrieks and squeals—quickly covered by nervous laughs. We huddled under a tarp for a cozy dinner—enjoying the adventure. Eventually it stopped raining and we lit a fire that somehow steamed into life. The stars were lovely, but after several hours of cold and wet, warm sleeping bags called our names. After we’d snuggled in and called out “Goodnight John-Boy” tent to tent, it started to rain again, a soft patter off and on through the night.

In the morning, we found blue skies and I seized the opportunity to paint this meadow, glowing green from recent rains, framed by the San Francisco Peaks still shrouded in clouds. Later, once again the clouds thickened and gave us a bit of rain. But by the time the dinner dishes were done, the skies had cleared, giving us plenty of time to sit around the campfire laughing together as we had so many times before. 

Come morning, we packed up to go our separate ways: our friends heading to the west, while we turned to the east. It was so hard to say goodbye.

From the Desert to the Sea

Meeting of the Waters

24" X 18"

Acrylic on Canvas

Happily, I managed to get some time in the studio over the past two weekends. As I giddily looked through photographs for inspiration, I decided it was time to move away from the desert for a spell. I needed to paint with blues and greens for a change. My urge to paint raged strong: I mentally drew the shapes of things I saw and mixed colors in my dreams.

That first afternoon, I found myself without any canvases, so I rummaged through the studio and found a reject painting that could be re-purposed. I always wonder if someone somewhere someday will x-ray one of my paintings and think, "Wow, what crap, no wonder she painted over it." In Art History, I remember a case where Michelangelo or DaVinci had painted over something and the ghost image uncovered by x-ray showed a beautiful, yet unfinished drawing. I guess when you are a Master, even your rejects are good.

This image is my favorite of those taken on a trip we took last fall. We were on Highway 1, winding our way home from Monterey, taking the scenic route. At one point, the road semi-circled around a mini-estuary, where a fresh water creek ran into the ocean. I was enthralled by the rainbow of colors, so we stopped for a quick photograph.

We didn’t stop for long. We had miles to go and the day was running away from us. It was somewhere south of Cambria and north of our turn-off at Nacimiento-Fergusson Road (say that three times), a narrow strip of dirt that rocketed up the steep grade, presenting tremendous views of the ocean before it bumped over the ridge, winding down into a deep canyon that eventually melted into rolling hills studded with oaks. This obscure route, connecting 1 to 101, ended up taking us hours longer than expected. Nonetheless, it was a delightful adventure and one of the best parts of the trip.