have you seen this before?
The problem with living someplace incredibly lovely is that it is difficult to know just how to respond to all the beauty. I've been living in such a spot for just over a year, and I still find myself surprised and awed at least three times a day by just how improbably beautiful it all is. And improbable it is. I'll stare at the blue of a sky I've just painted and feel that it just can't possibly be, but then look at the sky above me and realize that indeed it is truly that impossible blue.
And then there are the sunsets. 300 feet to the west of our home is a remote beach, which faces out across the Chesapeake Bay, and from there the world, and any day that I choose, I can watch the sun drop down behind the waters, generally to spectacular effect.
Have you seen this before?
Every day.
Never.
Each and every one is as improbable as the last; no matter how anticipated, a revelation. Now as an artist, how to respond? There's always the fear of painting something trite and tired, a caricature of what just unfolded, but let me just say that the urge to paint all of that gorgeousness is impossible to ignore. So sometimes, just sometimes, I can hear Mr. Wilde whispering to me :"It takes strength, strength and courage, to succumb to certain temptations" and succumb I do. The mea culpas might come later, but for now, here's an almost sundown, coming just before a storm, looking up the beach off of Nottingham Ridge to the pound nets.
