Dancing Light Creek – Acrylic/canvas – 31 x 40 inches.
There we were, Chris and I, a couple of dudes, wandering around in a wild part of Arizona. By and by we discovered a stream. I was going to call this painting, “Somewhere Near Nowhere,” but “Dancing Light Creek” seemed a better title because that’s what the light was doing.
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Portrait of a Dancer – Oil on canvas – 32 x 40 inches.
This image is a portrait of my niece Ruth, painted in what used to be my studio on the Gran Via in Valencia, Spain. We sense that she’s a pensive young woman, but we don’t know her thoughts. We also can’t share the thoughts of the cat. We suspect, however, that the cat — being a cat — knows whatever there is to know.
Purple iris, red tulips, fragrant lilac, and the music of birds have arrived in our little town in the foothills, about 2,500 feet above the level of the sea. If you welcome Spring, but are not ready to let go of Winter, you need only ascend another 1,500 feet higher into the mountains to find snow and cold.
Perhaps you’ll encounter fox tracks in the snow, and if you walk quietly, a deer and her fawn may pause to appraise you before they disappear into the trees. Branches whisper in the wind. Perhaps you’ll come upon a stream, and be able to hear the murmur of water as it wrinkles around the stones on its way to the sea.
Winter melts in the sunlight, gradually easing it grip on us. But I don’t want to let go of its white fingers and I don’t want Winter to let go of me. I want to feel still alive, like the snow, alive a little while longer.