Something Beautiful is a self-imposed initiative to find a visual feast for each day of a year.
For years it has been my contention that creativity is an innate human drive. But that is a long discussion for another venue. As an artist, the inspiration that drives my own creative voice has been the source of great internal pondering, curiosity, and observation. For the last 14 years, landscapes and trees have been recurrent muses. I have come to believe that the fascination is a deep cellular connection—and both the ephemeral and eternal qualities of land—vegetation—the cosmos.
Last summer’s oppressive heat was a scourge for those who live off the land. If one could look beyond, there were beautiful blonde bleached fields, bright skies, and colors different again from the usual dog days of late July. I was in Wisconsin during that time. On the return trip, I made a point of passing a favorite field on the outskirts of Oregon, Wisconsin. Two giant oaks regally stand in the center of a huge field. Enormous clouds floated over and stressed grasses blew bowed to the wind. I captured a sad replica in a photo—and held the colors and impression in my head. I began a canvas last fall. I had one painting in mind but could not pull it out of my head. So the canvas sat until today. Yesterday I indulged in a few new tubes of oil paint. Up at dawn—the visual words that would not come all fall finally poured out. In a way, I am surprised about what happened. But, then, on reflection—rarely do I see a painting finished in my head. There is a dance that happens between flow and problem solving — and that determines where I turn, what I edit—and what seems beautiful at the time. (Note: The first painting photo is second to the last version, but gives you a look at what the colors really look like. The final painting was taken by lamp light. So the color is “hotter” than the true color. For a look at the painting at different stages, visit http://goo.gl/lOCUo ).