Colours of Spring

"Colours of Spring" gives representation of the vibrancy and life of Spring, as the world comes out of the long and dreary of Winter. Accordingly, you will find this piece to liven up the room with the bright and richly textured flowers popping out from the surface of the painting. I chose the dimensions of the painting with the idea that it would best be showcased above the archway leading into a room, inviting guest to feel enlivened by what lies beyond. It began as simple painting that I intended on completing in a single session working wet-in-wet, or alla prima. I wanted a bright painting with spontaneous brush strokes. I painted a rainbow of colours, from deep alizarin crimson to the jewel like French ultramarine. After combining primaries to make secondaries I placed dabs of titanium white paint directly from the tube on to the canvas. I then proceeded to spread the white paint into spring flowers, creating a tint of the colour below. The idea was that the background colour represented fields of flowers that blended together on the horizon creating a single mass of colour, while the flowers in the foreground were close enough to distinguish.

Original composition.  

The unfortunate nature of oil paint is that it leaves your painting vulnerable to the environment for an extended period of time while the paint dries. As a result of my negligence to protect the painting during this critical time a thick layer of dust was cemented into the wet paint from the air conditioning vent above. I was rather dissatisfied with the results so I sanded the painting and began afresh. Yet, I could not simply repaint it as I had before because I had used thick paint, resulting in obvious brush marks that would not match between the old and new. To solve this problem I decided to magnify the textural difference between the flowers and the background by using a palate knife to paint over the flowers. To create variety in the flower's colouration I painted the flowers in two steps. I first painted a dark colour creating the flower's outline, and then I painted a lighter colour above, allowing the two to mix as I spread the paint with the palate knife.

Flowers layers.

At this point my simple flower painting had become much more complex, and what was suppose to have  been completed in a single painting session was taking multiple painting session, with over 100 hours invested into the final piece. 

Spring flowers: Poppies, daises, daffodils, grape vine, pansies, crocus.

As the painting progressed over months I began to develop new ideas to incorporate into the piece. The painting represented the vibrancy and life of Spring, yet how could I represent the life of Spring without including the diversity of life that the world contains. Thus I chose to accent each panel with a complementary colour of life. In the end, I arrived at a much more dynamic painting.

"Colours of Spring" 2011
Oil on Canvas 12x48"

Close up of poppies and daisies. 

Close up of praying mantis. 

Close up of dragonfly.

Close up of daffodil and grape vine.

Close up of butterfly.

Close up of lady bug.

Close up of pansies and crocus.

Close up of butter fly.

Close up of bumble bee. 

(Did you notice the ants crawling around the painting?)

Oil Colours:
Alizarin Crimson, Cadmium Red Medium, Cadmium Orange, Cadmium Lemon, Cadmium Yellow, Cadmium Yellow Pale, Indian Yellow, Sap Green, French Ultramarine Blue, Prussian Blue, Dioxazine (Windsor Violet), Burn Sienna, Burnt Umber, Ivory Black, Titanium White, Iridescent White.

Colours

The way our lives are illuminated can drastically change the colours through which we see. In the shadows of dreary winter life is far more cold and blue than the bright warmth of a summer morning. The same life under a different light and season is not truly the same life at all. Our intellect has the ability to imagine what it will, rather than what is. As we consume with all of our senses the euphoric nectar and splendor of the lilly we cannot but help to visualize the purity of the Madonna in its white petals, yet those petals in a different light are not white but a dingy grey. Colour is a property of light, and as such the colours of the world are constantly changing with the changing of the seasons and the passing of the day. What we truly see, therefore, may not be what is perceived, rather it is relative to the illumination by which it receives. The colours that I see are not the same colours that you behold, for I see them through a different light and life than can be illuminated through your eyes. My colours are unique, as are yours, but they are ever changing...

Roasted Butternut Squash and Yam Soup

Roasted Butternut Squash and Yam Soup.

Oh how I love the Fall. The leaves turn from green to gold, the air becomes crisp, and the fruits of the harvest laden the table with the prosperity of the season. No other soup speaks of Fall as does butternut squash soup.

Here we have oven roasted butternut squash, sweet potatoes, and garlic tossed lightly in olive oil and sprinkled with thyme, nutmeg, cinnamon, and salt (I use equal parts squash to sweet potatoes). The roast is then pureed with vegetable stock, and brought to a simmer with a touch of sherry and heavy cream. The soup is garnished with sweet potato chips, fresh thyme, and nutmeg, yielding a rich and creamy golden soup reminiscent of all that Fall contains.

VIPs

Today was somewhat of an important day, but not for me. My boss, whom I have worked with for the past eight years, whom has become a good friend, is in a position to receive an advancement in the company. As part of the interview process her boss along with other VIPs, including the president and vice president of a multi-billion dollar company,  made a visit to the restaurant today. A month ago I was asked if I would be willing to take care of them during their visit, with the admonishment that her job and future would be in my hands. Surprisingly I wasn't terribly nervous for today's events (I have enough stress these days in concerning myself with my own interviews and future). The adrenaline did finally kick in at the onset of my presentation, but quickly wore off as I began my work. My job was to make her look good, and how did I do? Well, the answer to that question I don't entirely know, but I was told by multiple people that the president stated that my presentation was the best he has ever heard, and I do not doubt the service was likewise.

Black Box

The days are beginning to cool. Although it is still hot the sign that fall is on the way is immiscible. Soon the leaves will begin to change from green to gold, the nights will become crisp, and frost will kiss the last remnants of the harvest. And then winter will come. I stand at the threshold of a new season of life, yet the life before me is a black box, without definition or form. As a child growing up, I knew what I was to become, who I was to be. My life had a direction, and I lived without doubt or fear of what my life might hold. Now, as a man, I live in a world of unknowns. The daunting darkness before me holds more questions than answers. As I travel from place to place, trying to find my future, I imagine how the scene will turn the course of my life. So many dreams I have lost, so many I morn. I fight this last fight, hoping that I might, for once, be victorious. Yet if granted this one dream, I would gladly trade it and all of the other dreams I have ever dreamed for the one dream that I cannot have...

Inspiratious

I need to be up fairly early this morning. It's my day to volunteer at clinic. But how could I resist a perfect night for writing. The air is slightly crisp, with each breath like drinking from a high mountain stream. The sky dappled with luminescent clouds drifting in the bright evanescent moonlight, with stars sparking between, yields inspiratious thought that cannot be denied. It's a shame that I am not writing poetry tonight, for I am bound to a cause. I am in the thick of writing essays for supplemental medical school applications, and I have time for little else. If only every day I sat to write could be as perfect as it is now, with the very elements vitalizing my whole being. But alas, my macbook's battery is not so empowered, and I must sleep before the sky turns to grey.

Carousel

It's not often that I take time away from the obligations of a busy life to visit my family in Dixie. I visit maybe once a year, sometimes not even that often. The time was ripe for a trip south. At these interviews I would love to spend time behind the camera, capturing and bottling memories to be reviewed in a day when family is far away, yet I find the camera to be a distraction from making memorable moments. As a result I typically leave the camera work to others. I rather record memorable moments in my heart than spend the few days that I have half hearted. Nonetheless, I feel compelled to give my artistic side expression. I find myself in conflict, wanting to dedicate time to my photography, and what better subjects do I have than those I love, yet I don't want to distract from making memories. This trip I took no shots but those in my heart. The drive to the camp site through Kolob was stunning, passing through fields of pink wild flowers among the quakies and pines of the forest. The beauty of the scene was only rivaled by the onward drive to Dixie, with its beautiful red sandstone cliffs dotted with lush vegetation. Nature in all her majesty was yet no match to the beauty captured in the joy of the children playing, be that upon the ripples of the lake, or in the streams of the park. 

My niece Sadie and I riding horses. 

Sadie and I playing in the sandstone river at the park.