Autumn

"and imagination

  and the dark hug of time,

   sweetness

     and tangibility,

"to be understood,

  to be more than pure light

   that burns

     where no one is --

"so it enters us --

  in the morning

   shines from brute comfort

     like a stitch of lightning;

"and at night

  lights up the deep and wondrous

   drownings of the body

     like a star."

-Mary Oliver

Danielle Is Engaged

Danielle got engaged this year.  I took her engagement photos on Sunday at the Washington Park Arboretum.

Deja Vu

A few years ago, while on day trip to Whidbey Island with some cousins, I took notes about the landscape of Fort Ebey State Park.  After getting home, I translated the words into colors and produced the painting below.  When I visited Hurricane Ridge up Olympic National Park on Thursday, I was struck by how similar in composition the painting was to the pictures I was taking.

Awe

Because the universe is so vast and incomprehensible. 

New Art

Was out backpacking up Park Butte on Monday, September 8.  Didn't see much of Mt. Baker but on the few times that I did, I was astounded. This is my rendition of the mountain.

Sketching, outlining, coloring. Beginning stage.

Finished.  Mt. Baker: 18x24" oil on canvas. 

I didn't bother with adding details to this piece.  There's something to be appreciated in its compositional simplicity. 

Bonuses:

I'm a little unsure about this piece. I wanted to paint something abstract. I don't think this image captures that. 

This one is okay. The sun above Puget Sound. I'll keep it.

New Art

More than two years ago, after a weekend of arduous hiking to camp down the bottom well of the Grand Canyon, Randi and Ross drove me to the airport in Phoenix 'round the golden hour.  The horizon I saw out of Ross' truck struck me as among the most luminous and vibrant glow I have ever beheld in my entire existence.  Arizona's reputed sunrise and sunsets do live up to the expectation, and it was a certain challenge to absorb the full extent of its awe-inspiring beauty.  It took a couple of years to achieve, but here's a facsimile of the landscape which I saw from off the interstate.  The layout mimics the design of Arizona's Flag; I see the entirety of the canvas represented as the flag itself, utilizing a technique similar to tonalism.

Vertical texture on the center left evokes precipitation.  

Detail

Almost done!

Detail

Bonus:

When I'm more prepared, I'll craft a more concentrated rendition of Glacier National Park as seen on the Highline Trail.

Tenebrous mood above darkened mountain peaks.

Texture.  That weird impasto of light on the lower right frame of the canvas denotes the elusive weather that high altitude peaks sometimes create.  A lightning, maybe?  

New Art

This is a night scene depicting a backcountry camping trip with the flashlight traveling left to right on its way to the tent (not shown).  The few points of pure yellow has a kind of delayed exposure effect which is supposed to invoke a sense of side-to-side movement.  Furthermore, the almost translucent lightness of the tree mimics the way we look at objects rising above the horizon at night - whether those things are a fabrication of the brain or not. The only part that's totally certain, however, is the inclination of our eyes to arrest light, no matter how diminutive. 

Taken by my phone.  Its high sensitivity to light infused some of the darker shades with diminished intensity.  Not sure how to manually set the ISO on an iPhone.  

On a separate note, I had a dream about getting swept by the rising ocean tide. It was a scary experience given that I don't like going in the water.