I tend to look down when I walk along the sidewalk, always have. I see such interesting things. It used to embarrass my young sons because one never knew when I'd spy something incredible and have to stop and take a photograph of it ... pieces of gum, shoe imprints, rain ghosts of dusty leaves, odd tickets, candy wrappers. One just never knew. They could never prepare for the moment when their mother would abruptly stop, stoop, and shoot a photograph.
I'm glad they can laugh about it now, and that it has become the family point of pride in their artist mother. Wait! How did I get off on this tangent? Oh yes, I remember now.
Last week I was walking west on Garland and I noticed pretty little yellow and green leaves on branches that had fallen to the sidewalk in the brisk wind. My sister Melba commented they might be from some kind of locust tree. There were other leaves, too. I also went this week to a Japanese garden in Spokane and there were pine needles strewn all over the place along with more windblown leaves. I liked the wild randomness of it.
Working from photographs I--yes--stooped to take, I came up with this painting. The background is red (Alizarin Crimson and Burnt Umber) because the leaves looked so bright and pretty against the red bricks along the sidewalk. I have used windy brush strokes that I hope convey motion and not mish mash.
|Windy Day Leaves|
8" x 10" Acrylic on Canvas Board