In the palette, the paint puddles,
ultramarine and sienna to make
a pool of clouds waiting
to float across the paper
dense and wind-feathered
The sky always comes first
the blue, not matter the shade,
brushed in where there are no clouds
and then the shadows and
water-filled density of them.
My teacher’s voice whispers
‘a little light red or yellow
to show the light’ and I agree
When all goes well my heart
rises up with the courage
to lay down the horizon line.
My first study of the Hudson as seen from Rensselaer, last night. Takes a bit to understand how it all fits together.
Clouds as I was leaving work tonight. A passing couple apparently thought – yup there’s a crazy lady taking pictures of the clouds.
It is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till. What weather they shall have is not ours to rule.
— J.R.R. Tolkien
