Almost like a concerto, somewhat like an overture, the sky silently plays above us. Clouds build up over our mountains causing never-ending chords of color and texture, their movement and shape pulled and twisted by unseen forces. Brooding, dark, and foreboding… wispy, shining, and brilliant…all in the same space and possibly at the same time.
My friend, Jolie, asked me, “What does your sky look like?” This is the start of our artistic conversation and my reply is in the photo below. You may read Jolie’s blog at this site: http://jolieguillebeau.com/
After Jolie asked her question, I looked outside at the greyness and thought, “No, not yet.” On the day the overcast finally broke, the temperature dropped, but I was determined to paint under the sky and not in my studio. Wind was blowing at a fair clip, so I decided to drive to a nearby airstrip and paint from the car, out of the wind. Staying out of the wind was a good idea, but painting in the car has permanently changed some of the interior.
I positioned the car at the end of the airstrip with a view of some clouds dancing across the northwestern sky, where the sun sets in the Alaskan summer. I sloshed paint over the paper, the car and myself for about twenty minutes, then rather dissatisfied with my work, started the car and turned down the airstrip. The western sky had turned into a mixture of radiant silver, brilliant blue, and a somber, almost bruised purple. I whipped out my camera and took a photo. Tonight, I painted in my studio with the image filling the computer screen and memories still fresh in my mind.