©2013 Guy Gondron
20" x 24"
Acrylic on canvas
I'm forever trying to get that 'light' in my paintings.
Sometimes it's the "Golden Hour" light, those precious minutes just after sunrise and before sunset.
Sometimes it's like this image - A storm in the distance, the sun breaking through the clouds and christening the field with it's warm glow.
The goal of any landscape is to give the viewer the feeling that they're there, witnessing the light change, feeling the breeze through the leaves. This piece has that feel for me.
That moment when you're standing back from a painting and it looks like you're there, like it's a photograph but with that quality a photograph can never achieve. And then you step forward a foot or two and you notice the trees aren't quite trees. And then another step forward and you see the sky is a spray of color, not soft clouds scudding across azure. So you have to go right up to the canvas, nearly touching it with your nose and inspect the brushwork, the bristles of the instrument apparent in the pigment and see the rocks and the grass for what they are - brilliant, almost random flecks of inspiration, mere motes of oils and painstakingly ground minerals, put there by a person, and you think, "I can do that..." To me, that was art. Though it was clearly genius there on the fabric, in that rendering, you feel the human hand, that person's soul looking back at you.
acrylic paint and brush