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In the fall the woods near my house are drunk with color.  Flashes of fiery orange or dazzling scarlet sing out among the oaky greens and browns, taking absolute joy in full-on, high-octane brilliance.  My artist eyes and heart respond in kind, a respite from the ever darkening cares of the world.   The roads this time of year are just too beautiful, to the point (I must admit) of making driving a little bit dangerous.  

Autumn Breeze, Side Show, Flash of Red and Fall Joy 6x6 ea matted to 16x16

What makes this season and its blasts of color so moving is contrast: light and shadow, bright and dull, and the vivid, fleeting, glorious season of color with the cold and grey on its way. This year I found a delightful way of capturing the joy and beauty of the season, with small sketches.  While large works need something more substantial to say, these little sketches seem ideal for what I love best about autumn in New England: the sideshows.  Any little tree, invisible and unnoticed most of the year, can suddenly burst forth and shine for a few glorious weeks in October.  Fall is the season for second acts, runners up, late bloomers. Everyone gets a chance to shine.  I can relate to these trees. 

I have just completed a series of new autumn pastel paintings that capture small moments, intimate encounters with roadside and forest.  At 6”x6” matted in 16x16 white mats, they pack a color burst and allowed me to celebrate individual autumn stories.

Orange Burst, 6x6 matted to 16x16

I’ve learned over time to pay attention when a scene I pass on the road calls out to me, to take note and to ‘listen’ to my eyes.  With the small sketches, I can note the feeling of the encounter.  Conveying feeling to my viewer is the most important part.  When I have time to stop and paint on site, en plein air, that feels like a longer conversation and it stays with me, so I can draw on the memory of the encounter later.

October Joy 9x12 (Anderson Fine Art) and October Mist (link here) 12x16, both plein air

To me, original artwork is alive.  It contains that conversation between the artist and subject and continues it for the viewer.   

I think for me that’s the beauty of fall—the landscape stops me in my tracks. 

How do you encounter artwork?  Has a piece ever stopped you in its tracks?    I would love to hear your thoughts.

Blue and Gold 24x36 at Powers Gallery