Thursday, June 23, 2016

"Mist and Shadow" 48x48, Oil on Canvas

"Mist and Shadow" 48x48, Oil on Canvas

A beautiful morning had begun with a soft mist that filled the floor of the desert. I loved the shadows that would happen to the mountains. By mid day all the drama was gone, burned away to the details of rock and one flat color. But in the morning or at dusk they seemed to come alive. Gloriously alive!

On this morning I saw the blue mist surround the mountain. I stood for a long time watching the light move and the soft cloud curl as if a wave was crashing on a shore. All is dry and light in this place yet there was this cool mist overnight. Bringing green and a sweet softening.

Oh, the beauty of Big Bend. You must see it for yourself. I hope you will.

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

"The Morning He Left" 12x36, Oil on Canvas

"The Morning He Left" 12x36, Oil on Canvas

The morning Kendrick left Big Bend to get back to our daughters in Dallas was hard. I haven't been on my own very much. Least of all in a wilderness the size of Rhode Island. "This was good for me," I kept telling myself. But it would be 14 days until I saw him again. He was such a strength (and is) to me. ALL my insecurities came falling out of me the first night we camped and watched the beautiful sunset on the Sierra del Carmens...and then waited as one by one (thousands by thousands) of stars started their revelation. "Oh! How could I capture such beauty?" I remember saying this crying. He would just assure me that God brought me to Big Bend. He wouldn't leave me. And then walk and sit and sleep beside me as if his body were the heavy presence of God Himself.

When Kendrick left I felt like there was no curtain between me and God anymore. No chaperone. Would I fall into my fear or find His true hand? I drove out to the Chisos to watch the sunrise come over the ridge. Wiping tears from my goodbye with Kendrick. The sun took a bite out of the peak. The light was white and I thought I heard flapping for what seemed like minutes until I saw a black Raven come and stand beside me. He was the size of a house cat. I wasn't scared though. I remember saying, "Thank you God." Later I read that a group of Ravens is called an unkindness. But one? Maybe a kindness. Just a way that God says, "Are you ready? Trust me."

Saturday, June 11, 2016

"Not Alone" 36x36, Oil on Canvas

"Not Alone" 36x36, Oil on Gessbord

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”  - WB Yeats

Finished this piece a few days ago. Had to stop several times through the process and let the paint dry so I could do another layer. This helps me to be patient and wait for the painting to tell me where it wants to go.

The day I hiked up the Pinnacles in Big Bend National Park I looked up towards Emory Peak (the highest peak at around 8,000 ft). There was a cool mist that was flowing down the ridge in the late afternoon. It gave me a sense of fear and awe. There was much more detail to the mountain (rocks and trees) but I chose to dial down the information so I could soften it and give a sense of mystery to how it felt that day. Eerie yet incredible to be there on that mountain with a strong sense that I wasn't alone.