Dusk in Spring at Fremont Peak. Pretty little things in haunting woods.

There's nothing like a forest in the fog. And pretty little things in haunting woods.

In the fog the woods are eerie. The colors are different - sometimes a pale blue/cyan tinge to everything, sometimes a periwinkle-gray littered with green.  It's 100x better than a scary movie if you have a particularly sinister imagination. In the woods, or similarly in the cornfields where we grew up, at dusk in the fog there's a slight undercurrent of alarm because you need to get out before it gets too dark to find your way. Before the bad things come out.


The woods on a starry night can be fun. The woods on a foggy night can be so scary it's hard to breathe.

In the California Salad Bowl near San Juan Bautista, where I experimented with farm country trailer park living/boys for a little while, I used to hang out a lot on top of a hill called Fremont Peak, oftentimes with my little friend Katie and we'd go looking for Mikey G's hidden treasure up on the peak (we never found it).

John C. Fremont, a government surveyor and explorer back in 1846, climbed this peak with his dudes and said this is mine and put up a flag. The local Mexican authorities weren't having it - that was their Hawk hill. One windy night Fremont's flagpole blew down and he took that as a bad omen and split. Maybe it was also a foggy night. 

wishies on a slight hillside at Fremont PeakOne single orange flower in grass on a foggy day in the woods at Fremont PeakThis painting was inspired by two pics I took on a dusk walk out to the peak. Pretty little things are illuminated in a much more subtle and arresting way in the fog, than when they're showboating in sunlight. The quiet, haunting side of living things can be so pretty - it's like you know how they feel.


On the ground in the campground painting the ping pong table up against the side of the Airstream

It took me 4 years to figure out what to do with the half a ping pong table I was lugging around from apartment to next apartment to storage to trailer, and when I saw these pics I knew they belonged on that ping pong table somehow as a painting.

Armed with a few basic art classes from 25 years ago and a complete shut-down of my right brain for two decades, I managed to get this out after several months of looking at it weird like "let's just put paint on wood and see what it does". Isn't that how all first few paintings are? The piece was too big to fit in the Airstream I live in so I had to paint it outside. In the cold I'd have two fires lit, and in the rain I covered it with a tarp and let it wait under the trailer awning.  I let my right brain open back up and this is what hopped out first. The original is not for sale, but prints of it are

Leave a comment

Name .
.
Message .

Please note, comments must be approved before they are published