Holyoke Mountain Range

From my sleeping bed I get words out of my head by writing them out of me, of insights, thoughts and feelings, even what I dreamt, which sets the emotional specificity for the day. After chores, when I stand in front of the canvas, I have no words left, only the color in front of me exists. This becomes a meditation, as I stand motionless, waiting for intention that will tell my hands when to pick up paint brushes, what colors to mix, and how to apply them. Every day brings a different feeling; I will spend the day searching for it in color.
In early June the earth becomes a pale, alive green, then a rich emerald green mid-summer, then the green gets tired and dulls in late August, when the angle of the sun becomes sharper, making everything high contrast. After painting all day, I then walk 2-3 miles at sunset, ‘to look out.’ (I continue to see the painting in all its detail even while it is no longer in front of me, as I look out, fodder for the next day.)
Constantly changing light and changing seasons inspire me. Painting breeds a solitary life, and I have been especially reclusive all during the pandemic, which has been excellent for my painting progress. No stress, no need to achieve, no need to be successful, no need to be anywhere but inside the painting.