I awoke before sunrise with a stack of gessoed, orange stained masonite panels and planted myself in front of the window panes overlooking the Worcester mountain peaks in the barn home. My boyfriend and I were house and seedling sitting as the farmers were traveling for a few days.
The full, supermoon light poured in and I sat, soaking in it's energy before setting up my easel. My eyes circled the glowing orb, a ghost beckoning a silent reverie. I followed the silvery arm-like beams outward, into the darkness of night, spreading across the sleeping fields, all the way to my feet on the concrete floor. As the sun began to emerge and illuminate the mountains, casting a pale pink and orange glow on the frosted ice caps, I began my painting, of my favorite peak "No Name." Time unraveled before me. I made the finishing touches, as the shadows drained into the tree line, while listening to the slow pumping of the watering hose next to me. The sound reminded me of the breathing tube I had to use in the hospital as my collapsed right lung fluttered, day and night, into a chest tube. Everything is coming alive, I thought. The day, the mountains, the birds, the seedlings are coming alive. I am coming alive.
As the day continued on, I returned to my easel at 12pm, 3pm, and 4pm, and tried to capture the light over the course of an hour. I continued to use the same color palette that I mixed at dawn, but adding variations of grey, and mixing more blue into the oranges, reds, and whites. By dusk I was mostly just adding a lot of ultramarine blue! As the sun began to set behind the mountains, I watched the dip in the ridge line, like the contour of a profiled mouth, swallow the egg yolk sun whole. I expressed this with swift, hungry, shadowy brush marks. What must it be like, to be No Name for a day? I wondered. It was a beautiful experience to sit and observe such a small part of the vast landscape, and explore that pivotal area where the light and sky change over the mountain ridge. I felt the charge of energy, where air and water meet earth. I felt these elements interacting, inside of me, and all around me. Additionally, I had greeted the moon and journeyed with sun from the east to the west. It's such a trip to know this magical sequence of events is happening each and every day.
I've included these four studies entitled "A Day with No Name" in show24 at The Front Gallery. I'm happy to announce they have sold as a set! Even though the physical records will be leaving me, the memory leaves a powerful imprint. And for that I am so grateful.
“A Day with No Name” Oil on masonite, 2018, 4 x 4 “
Knowing is loving.