paintings from the winter

 

Oak Over Modoc is a small painting about five inches by ten. The tree exploded into brilliance when the late sun hit the branches. Behind it the slope drops off into a tangle of shrubbery, and below that lies a wetland that the Chumash Indians used to frequent and plant with medicinal herbs.

Here’s a graduate student who took the landscape painting class. The fog burned off and full morning blasted the dead grasses into waves of yellow, and we all went from bone-chilled to roasting. (This painting’s about five by twelve inches.)

Below, I’m holding a just-varnished painting, Black Hills Waiting, which hung with approximately thirty other paintings of mine in the February 2013 show at Sullivan Goss in Santa Barbara.

 

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