I still can't paint such gorgeous colors as these, but I can't stop looking at them in nature. I think they will always look better in nature, but I can understand why an artist might want to play with them. Certainly, though, what I am seeing here in Wyoming inspires me to at least draw, to sing the joys of the natural world with my hands and eyes on paper.

places of the mind

Snow crept up on us, over the night. This is a view to our east. The Big Horn Mountains to the far west are gone. But the Lower Piney Creek carries on. It guides my spirit, so I will listen to it each morning. All I ever need to do in life is remember this.



I am photographing every intriguing composition I see on my morning walks. My plan was to look at my photos and paint from them. I'm not doing that. I don't need to. I am caught by similar compositions in my walks and seemed to have internalized their essence because I'm now seeing reminders in my paintings. I am paying respect to my emotional well being and to the nature around me that is supporting that well being. And I'm doing that with landscape paintings, something I've never done before. Yes. This place is telling me things, and I am listening.

A landscape in progress

The inspirations. The lines. The colors. The shapes. The flow. The subtle.

Ahh. . . the water's edge. A walk around Jentel. A chaotic transition to artistic introspection. The gurgles and rush of water and the wind in the reeds will drive noise out of my head, leaving room for that blank canvas.

Ready. Set. Go. There's a bed? I think it's for dreaming. Or for curling up into a little ball from time to time, biting your nails.