Three straight days of wonderful sunshine. Mornings out sketching people enjoying the crisp autumn weather; afternoons capturing the setting sun winding it’s rays through my potted geraniums on the windowsill. Doing quick studies of the dead leaves and the glass jars and vases that line my windowsill is what I do most days. I snap a few photos, but it’s the little studies that fuel my imagination. There is something about working from life that energizes artists. It’s what attracts so many to plein air painting – it’s just you out there seeing your subject, deciding what to put to canvas and what to leave out. There is that rush one gets when their painting begins to take shape and begins to talk. It tells you what it needs and you try to give it before the light denies you the gift of inspiration. Nature is there, inspiring, tapping artists on the shoulder asking for a second look at a rainy day or challenging us with the sounds of a moonlit night. By chance, I saw the largest moon last night and thought of Eric Bowman’s work. Art brings me peace and seeing that moon as I drove home I thought about all the artists who have been inspired by it – poets, songwriters, dancers.
Summer nights fishing, watching the dancing light of the moon on the ripples after a frog leaves it’s hiding place. Tiny specks of warm light peeking through silhouettes of distant farms. Such visions are there, recorded in our minds, forever asking to be released and shared with others. Paintings tap people on the shoulder and remind them of something that inspired them in some way, to smile at a stranger or hug someone in need of a hug, or to forgive that person who cut in front of you, giving them a smile as that glance back at you.