Do you feel a sense of kinship with a particular season? Is it easier to abide in Autumn, with its falling leaves and crisp air and pumpkin spice promises? Or spring, when the fresh earth smell makes all things new? I am trying to learn to love January, though this dark time of the year is often cloudy and characterized by a cold that isn’t really cold (in Dallas), just damp, cloudy, and slow… like a dripping faucet. Wouldn’t it be nice to find peace and belonging in all seasons? I confess, I miss December’s cheerful Christmas lights that hold the winter’s dark at bay. I wish we could keep them up a little while longer, until the seasonal darkness lifts and the trees begin to bud. I’m already examining the bare branches for the first signs of new life. Yes, I know it is far too early yet.
This time of year, I gravitate to bold colors in my work. Cobalt and rubine and vermillion ease my mind when all the world is grey. I have taken a break after a busy 2019, and I am ready to roll up my sleeves and see what new sorts of messes I can make. Desert colors dance behind my eyelids. I’d love to experience all the seasons in West Texas, in Northern New Mexico. The quality of the light changes, and that, of course, changes everything.
For me, as I plot my yearly travels for painting references, the question is not only where, but when. Where and when would you travel, if you had the opportunity?
Abiquiu, New Mexico before a summer monsoon. June, 2019.
