July 27, 2005

img_2746-1.jpgPainting No. 26 Dark Skies Portend Rain, Brewers Lake

Last night was very chilly, just 7 degrees. I had to snuggle deep into my woollen horse blanket. I got up early, 5:30 am, in order to limber up and get warm. Though hardly possible, it was a good thing.

I started out later that morning towards the east gate. I had worked there during the 1970’s. Passing Brewer Lake, the raging sky overhead beckoned to me like a siren.

Marg dropped me off and I proceeded to look around.  Finding nothing suitable on the ground level, I scaled a large rock cut with a view of the southeastern side of the lake.

Burdened with gear, it was a hair-raising ascent along the craggy edge. Rather precariously, I managed to set up mere inches from a very steep, hard fall. With the drum of distant thunder, the clouds moved ominously towards my position, accentuating my urgency and perilous state. Triumphs of this make an artist’s life worth living: in the face of hardships, one attempts to delve into the sublime.

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