Snowies in Summer
Each summer, I spend several days exploring this mountain range. On this particular day, I hiked from Lake Marie (the far distant lake) to the top of this 13,000 foot ridge where I found this spot to look out over the range and the lakes. This particular view faces south, looking out to the Colorado mountains. I’m always amazed by the number of wildflowers that come into bloom for such a short period of time each summer.
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A popular climbing area in Vedauwoo, Wyoming, Reynold’s Hill, a monolith of 1.4 billion year old granite, stands proud and strong. Surrounded by its court of lush aspen trees and meadows of willows, it reflects on its image in the still pool.
Peach Study in Pastel
I’ve been looking forward to summer and doing a peach study in pastel for a larger painting. Each year, Morton’s Organic Orchards sets up their fruit stand at the nearby farmer’s market. They begin with cherries that are so deep and dark in color, flavor and sugar that I feel ‘drunk’ after just a few morsels.
Following on the heels of the cherries, the peaches arrive. Clingstone peaches appear first – small and sweet. Then, giant freestone peaches arrive by the truckload, covered in peach fuzz. They line up, ready to be turned into pies and jams and in my case, ice cream and smoothies.
These little orbs of sweetness are surprisingly solid. I wanted the viewer to feel as though they could be picked up and held, as well as eaten.
pastel, still life, 5×5
There are places we return to paint again and again. This is one of those places. Away from the hustle and bustle of town, tucked behind the hogbacks, Bobcat Ridge is quiet and serene. Fall lingers here, holding onto color until this snow flies. Tucked into a curve of the road, the sun warms the earth and the leaves glow. The beauty of fall stands in proud glory.
10×8, oil on canvas
Into the Fog Archival Print
I woke before dawn and stepped out into the crisp air. There was a fresh layer of snow dusting the grass and trees. I sought refuge, visiting ‘old friends’ that I have come to know, traveling this well-worn path into the fog.
The sun rose slowly over the eastern plains. The angle low on the horizon, the light weak. Clothed in a blanket of fog, the city disappeared. Gentle and illusive, a warm glow began to filter through the churning moisture. Long past it’s prime, the tree stood in a shimmering coat of crystalline snow. Proud, strong and beautiful.
This Limited Edition Archival Giclée is printed on smooth 100% acid free cotton rag, natural white, heavyweight fine art paper. As an archival, museum quality paper, this print has a light fastness rating of 100+ years under normal indoor lighting conditions.
The print is shipped in a protective clear envelope with acid-free foam core, ready to present as a gift or frame.
Each print is numbered and signed by the artist.
Size: 12×9 plus a half inch white border
Limited to 250 prints.
original painting, egg tempera, 12×9
Where the Wild Things Grow
During a trip up the Cache la Poudre Canyon, I came across this field filled with aspen trees. Although I wasn’t able to paint it that day, I knew a return trip was in order and soon the opportunity arrived.
Upon my return, the small aspen grove had filled wildflowers. As I set up my easel and began to paint, I felt as if anything could stumble up out of the river or through the grove of trees. While it would most likely be a deer, I couldn’t help but think of the children’s book, “Where the Wild Things Are” and my imagination went wild.
oil on canvas panel, 5×7
Can you feel the fuzz? Do you smell that sweet syrup of a ripe summer peach? Each summer, I look forward to peach season and picking up fresh peaches from the farmer’s market. After they grow and ripen in the heat of the Western Slope, they arrive at the market ready to eat. There’s nothing as delicious as a sweet summer peach on a hot day, especially when the juice drips down your hand…
Lazy Day at the Poudre
Not far from the city, along the Cache la Poudre River, there’s a fishing hole that’s popular with anglers seeking trout. Originating in the northern range of Rocky Mountain National Park, the ice cold water quenches the thirst of the residents along its path before joining the South Platte and traveling to the Gulf of Mexico. The water gurgled past, the trees were just beginning to turn, and I wished I’d worn my bathing suit for a quick dip in the river.
en plein air