|The weight of snow on the redbud tree, 11x14 inches acrylic on stretched canvas|
Like I've said before, I don't generally paint snow. When I was a kid, I enjoyed painting pretty little scenes of animals and cheerful snow with beautiful pastel blue highlights, but that was back when I didn't have to spend days cleaning it and driving through it, or worrying about my family trying to get home. Funny how growing up changes your perspective so much. Today is actually a bright, sunny day, with sunbeams radiating off of the close to three feet of snow on the ground. Only about half an inch fell last night, just enough to make everything clean and crisp. I sat down to paint a joyous tribute to the beautiful winter landscape, but quickly decided to finish another blizzard painting that I started during last week's blizzard. Then I found this photo of our redbud tree that I took two nights ago with the intention of painting. Something about the desolate beauty of this twisted tree struck me. It was glowing in the light from the house, and the reflected light from the snow. I have no idea how to capture this glow and majesty with my camera, it seemed whatever settings I used, the camera just couldn't capture what I saw and felt staring at this cold tree. I snapped a few mediocre photos and tried to remember the rest of its desolate beauty.
|The Icy Road, 16x20 inches acrylic on stretched canvas|