Yesterday, I drove across the Province of British Columbia. A trip literally from the shoreline of Georgia Straight to the Great Divide at the Alberta border, and then I continued to Calgary. It took 13+ hours for the journey including stops for fuel, road coffee and a bowl of chilli.

Darkness at the beginning and darkness at the end brought definition to full grey tones of a day filled with slush, compact snow and clouds of dirty road spray on the windshield. Only once did the sky open, allowing sunshine to touch the earth as a breathless whisper of light at the summit of Rogers Pass.

The moment seems so very paintable. But painting isn’t possible. There is nowhere to park: nowhere to open the paint box. Not enough time either.

The alternative is to stop to take a photo. A quick shot with my phone camera as I stand beside the car. “Click”, and at once the moment spoils: I get back into my car just as a large truck passes spraying a monsoon over everything.

The grandeur, simply the grandeur, makes the camera image: snow white brilliance with blue sky showcasing magnificence. Dazzling.
Don’t know if the mountain has a name. Certainly, the mountain won’t know my name. Simply a connection during a flash of sunshine.

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Autumn Dreams in Reds

March 27, 2011


My goodness it has been awhile since my last blog post. Well, I have a new desktop computer now so hopefull this will keep things going smoothly.

Here’s a new painting to get things started: “Autumn Dreams in Reds”. The canvas is 40″x40″. Not sure I quite remember just where this location is as the image is very much something I remembered as I stood in my studio looking at a white canvas. I started with large, sloppy, wet, dark, dots as a first layer and during this I then remembered how the trunks needed to be. As the layers of dots happened it seemed very clear to me that there were to be lots of reds and so there were. I know I’ll recognize this place when I see it again.

“Concert In Blue”

May 26, 2010

In Antarctica you sense the earth is consolidating into a hugely quiet place of beginnings. Sequestered. Motionless. Colossal too, like a vision of endless skyline skyscrapers, yet immense hush,  like someone pulled the plug on the traffic. Then watching the landscape you listen with all your being to see the music. “Concert in Blue” found me this way. Gentle at first but then deeply connective and wildly compelling before relinquishing to the winds.

“Concert in Blue”  shares a glimpse of Antarctica and for me the emotions of seeing it.  The canvas is 30″x40″