My Field of Dreams

A stillness in the studio, a blank canvas. No exhibitions coming, no commission. The desire to create is the only thing there. Free to use colors that bring joy to my soul. Like a child again, the canvas is my playground. I start with a wash of colors. The mix of color running down my canvas sets my mind to work. A tree of yellow, a stream of blue, flowers maybe. A line here, a bold brush stroke and a sense of something pushing its way forward.

Clearly a landscape is forming. Spring, fall, or summer are still free to appear. Realism is a force that grips me. The abstract in me must be subdued as I sit back to take in the colors settling in place. Making sense of things is instilled in me. It was part of my upbringing. Mom planting flowers for the months of the growing season may have something to do with it. How I do not know. Even explaining my process to myself becomes part of the process. I only know today it is a landscape of open fields I am bringing forward. A horizon line sets me in the Midwest and visions of the country I love.

Wiping the canvas clean of color above my horizon line an unexpected storm appears. For the next week or so I will have the joy of seeing what comes next. How far I take this painting depends on what pushes forward from my mind to replace my field of dreams.