Winter Sun (and winds of change...)

And the shadows steal over the hill... K Howell Acrylic on Paper

     Last week we had a dazzling and brief day of winter sun. So very cold.
     This wasn't the painting I wanted, but it's what I ended up with. A little Stiff, you say? A little Awkward? Let's blame the uncooperative frozen digits, shall we?  
    
     January is an extreme month. John Updike describes it brilliantly in "January",  from A Child's Calendar:

The days are short,

The sun a spark

 Hung thin between

The dark and dark.

      It's the right time of year to drag the heaps of studies out for an overview, which I'd intended to do. I'm developing larger acrylic paintings on panel, and want this series to work together as a body. Well, bodies. Time for the method in the madness.

     Instead of this crucial bit of analysis, I found myself aiding and abetting with the production of pugiones in the kitchen. I have to remind myself, no, I don't have ADHD, I have children. And they've decided to be Roman Assassins. It's that sort of day. Beware the Ides of March...

Shadows

 Birch Outstripped by Shadows K Howell 2011 Pastel on Paper 28 cm x 28 cm

     I like shadows. They are rich and full of mystery. Often, they are extreme; a dense pool of dark at your feet, an elongated exaggeration of your height, stretching effortlessly over uneven ground. In a wood, the patterns become entrancing. Actual trees and shadow trees connect and overlap in fascinating rhythms.
     Shadows are the places light doesn't reach. Obviously. They give the world definition. An intriguing wealth of colour goes into the illusion of their solidity.
     When I was small, I developed an obsession with the word penumbra, which is harder than you might imagine to use in conversation. But the sound of it was (and still is) magical. Almost shadow. A word that is evasive, vague, yet exact. I had to make do with umbrella, and translate it in my head as an epithet. Shadow-maker.
     It seems the right time of year to wax effusive about shadows. For the Impressionists, it was all about painting light. Today, I chase shadows.