Most of this painting is sky: a wide sweep of silver gray weather worked thick with the palette knife, all movement and mood. Down at the bottom the land holds on in strokes of ochre, rust, and green, and right at the center the sun finds one opening, a single slash of yellow light. It is the moment a storm starts thinking about leaving.
Small in size and big in weather, it suits the intimate spots: over a desk, in a reading corner, in an entry where you pass it twenty times a day and it still stops you.
13” x 21”, oil on canvas
Most of this painting is sky: a wide sweep of silver gray weather worked thick with the palette knife, all movement and mood. Down at the bottom the land holds on in strokes of ochre, rust, and green, and right at the center the sun finds one opening, a single slash of yellow light. It is the moment a storm starts thinking about leaving.
Small in size and big in weather, it suits the intimate spots: over a desk, in a reading corner, in an entry where you pass it twenty times a day and it still stops you.
13” x 21”, oil on canvas
