Morning Dogwood

When I say that a painting ‘seems to paint itself,’ I don’t mean that it requires no artistry or application of skill and effort on my part. What I do mean is that the painting seems to possess a logic that operates without my conscious intervention.

Morning Dogwood will make my meaning clearer. The painting, which has become a follow-up to my Afternoon Light, Dogwood, started its life as a Plein Air impression of a tree shaded gazebo that I saw on a trip to Hawai’i.

I brought the canvas home, kept it in my studio, and glanced at it from time to time. It occurred to me, and then became a very powerful impression, that the trees should be pink flowering dogwoods rather than the tropical trees of Hawai’i. I actually sanded down some of the heavy Plein Air brushwork, painted in the dogwoods shrouding the gazebo in lavish blooms, and stood amazed at the vision of Eden that seemed to paint itself in Morning Dogwood.

I think you will understand me when I say that art is an adventure. I’ve added an inviting path to the gazebo and to the open gate that lies beyond, to suggest that the adventurous possibilities of Morning Dogwood are limitless.