SEDONA ROCK

We drag out of bed a half hour later than yesterday. I choose a smaller canvas, thinking that it might be a little easier to simplify if I am forced to. And I learn from yesterday’s difficulty and paint the things that will change most first: the rock.
I feel more connected with the rock today. There’s something comforting about painting the exact same subject more than once. I tell my self I should do this more often.
After my painting is as finished as I intend to make it, I put my supplies away and walk up the hill in search of my husband, who is taking in the Sedona energy up top. He sees me and walks down toward me, but I intend to take the summit anyway. On my way down, I meet Carolyn Sommers (Carolynsommers.com) who does energy paintings. She shows me some. They remind me a little of the northwest Native American drawings of salmon and raven, except these are drawings of trees and rocks. She says she is looking for the tree that she drew yesterday. I look at her drawing (energy only, lines, thick parts) and I see her problem. We visit for a while. I take a break and call my husband on my cell phone and tell him I will be late because I am visiting. He understands. He’s travelled with me before.

CURTAIN RISING ON ROCK SHOW

We get up just after sunrise, with the sky already light. A short drive to the airport mesa, and there I set up to paint a view of Sedona Rock. It is an exercise in chasing the light. I lay in the dark and light patterns, but get distracted by painting the sky. Every once in a while, my watercolor background pulls me away from doing what I know I should–painting the thing that changes the most first. In Oregon, that is often the sky, but not here, not now. By the time I get back to the rocks, the light pattern has completely changed and I am chasing the light. Mistake. Still, these rocks are mysterious, flamboyant, and interesting, despite the rough rendition.