Morning Light 24×30 oil on gallery wrapped canvas $700
Painted during the late summer when the hay grass had turned a Naples Yellow, this landscape is currently on my guest room wall. I walked in there today, noticed it, and said to myself, “I had forgotten about that one!”
I don’t know how I forgot about it, except that it was painted at a time when I was in between shows. It wasn’t dry enough for “From the Ground Up.” And then, life got busy, so I just put it out for sale on my website today!
I love the finished painting as much as I loved the morning light when it hit that yellow hayfield one summer morning. It was one of those mornings that grabbed my attention and said, “Paint me!” I probably had a coffee cup in my hand, walked out on the porch to breathe, before the Texas heat took over by 10:00 a.m., and used my cell phone to record the scene, for reference in a painting.
The painting, Morning Light, is in my guest room, for now. But, if it gets your attention and you are interested, be my guest! The paintings on my walls are often changed. (And I wonder if my husband notices.)
Steve and I have been married 45 years! (yikes, I know) And we try to go somewhere special at least every five years. Now that we live on the West side of the Mississippi River, I requested a trip to Sedona, Arizona. Steve was on board so we took a road trip through Arizona and New Mexico in early June.
One of his requests was to go on a jeep ride with Safari Jeep Tours. We chose the one at sunrise to see animals waking up to a new day. Both of us are happy with cameras in our hands!
We barely slept, in order to be there at 4:45 a.m. (yes, you read that right). As it turned out, we were the only ones for the tour and had our guide, Cowboy Bob, all to ourselves. He was a jewel, a rough diamond in a cowboy hat. Bob had lived in the Arizona Mountains all his life and was a wealth of knowledge about plants, animals, the early inhabitants, and local folklore.
As the sun rose over the red rock mountains and brushed the tops with golden sunlight, the scenes were magnificent! We bounced along on the rugged terrain in the crisp morning air, holding onto the open jeep with one hand, and clicking cameras with the other.
Back home, weeks later, with all the photos sorted and stored on my computer, I went to my studio and chose the largest canvas I had (a 30×40). I didn’t really get the perfect photo to use as a reference for a sunrise painting. But this one evolved from several photo references and the memories and emotions of color in our experience.
And that’s the Story Behind this Painting.
This one will be available in From the Ground Up! September 23-November 4, 2023 at the Cultural Activities Center, Temple TX.
This is the view I see from my porch. I often sit out there, drinking coffee in the mornings when the weather cooperates. For several days I have been noticing the morning sun glinting off of the red horse trailer, surrounded by wild sunflowers against the overgrown summer greens. And even if it is the first day of summer and we are already hitting temps of close to 100, I sat under the porch shade and painted from 9 to 10 a.m.
Yes, I have things I need to get painted in the studio. But, this morning, painting en plein air became the priority. While I painted, I listened to the birds sing, felt the warmth of sunshine, and even detected a coyote pup barking somewhere in the brush. All of this was necessary to remind me of why I paint what I paint. A snippet of time, an hour actually, was recorded with colors of paint and a variety of textures to proclaim beauty, and wonder, and miracles that grow from seeds. And I never tire of examining and marveling at it – this natural world in which we live.
This view: this huge expanse of a sky, with only a few distant wind turbines breaking the horizon, is what I see each morning when I walk out on my front porch. The colors, the shapes, the atmosphere, the smells or sounds may vary from day to day. But one thing I know for sure is that the view is going to be there. It will be new to me, every morning.
And it reminds me of an Old Testament Bible verse,
“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23
Written at a time when God’s people had truly messed up, the prophet Jeremiah was lamenting all that was wrong. Yet, he doesn’t give up hope in the steadfast love of God and His faithfulness. He believed that God would not turn his back, would not grow weary of their shortcomings, would not hold back His love from them. New beginnings are welcomed by the God who provides a way for us to give up and start over. His mercies are new every morning!
And when I walk to the door, with my morning coffee, the sunrise reminds me that it is a new day, a new beginning, a new grace, an opportunity to be better than the day before, with God’s strength and through His love.
I woke up early. It was a cold, cobalt blue kind of morning sky. I wasn’t sure if the sun was going to appear to warm the earth, or not. But when it did…WOW…the yellows and oranges spilled out, breaking through the shadows of blues, until the sky was brilliant with a breakthrough of color!
Can you remember times in your life when you had breakthroughs? For example, when someone helped explain something in Math that just seemed impossible to comprehend and then suddenly, you said, “Oh, now I get it!!” Now, that was a breakthrough. (hypothetically speaking, of course)
This painting reminds me that breakthroughs are good. Searching for truth and understanding is good. Looking for guidance with wisdom is good. Breakthroughs may change the way we look at the day ahead, as we are reminded of the Presence of God.
As I painted, I thought about the Spirit of God hovering over the earth, somewhat like this sun setting on a cool evening, and coming close to our hearts as we pray to him. The word, “vespers” came to mind, “associated with evening prayer.”
My Freshman Year at Shorter College (many moons ago), I often went to a Vespers service after eating supper in the dining hall with friends. I don’t remember hearing the word, “vespers” in my Baptist upbringing before then, but I soon found out it was an evening devotional service that had good sing-alongs with guitars. It was a ritual that delayed going back to the dorm room to study, and an opportunity to socialize with friends, so I was usually in. (And besides, there were usually a few cute guys who tagged along with us which always made it more interesting.)
Even though my main motivation for attending the service on this Baptist campus might not have been to commune with God, His Spirit usually made himself known. God seemed close to me in the outdoor settings, through the songs or devotional thoughts.
And for a brief moment at the setting of the sun, I still bow in gratitude for another day.
“From the rising of the sun to its setting, the name of the Lord is to be praised.” Psalm 113:3
On a recent trip to Taos, New Mexico, we were glad to have friends with us who had been there before. One evening they sat in the back seat and directed us down a treacherous dirt and rock semblance of a road. We wound our way to the bottom of the gorge, across the John Dunn Bridge, so we could see this view. I was somewhat skeptical as the road had those places where you just know you are going to slide off into nothingness or into the blinding sunlight of the setting sun. So when we got to the bottom and saw the relaxing Rio Grand River, my tension melted into the coolness of the shaded rock walls. And, the sight that grabbed my attention the most was the light at the top of the gorge! This was a sunset glow just barely skimming the tops of the gorge walls, giving warm color to the rock formations, and reflecting in the cool water below. I took photos, knowing I would paint this scene later in my studio.
The light on any subject usually gets my attention. And light at the top directs me to look upward. The view was well worth the journey and ended on a happy note! And yes, the ride back up was not as challenging! Thank you, Shannon and Guy, for sharing a memorable view– a moment of ahhh!
Remember when you were a child and would look up at the sky and pretend to fly away? Clouds floated gently on the wind, while changing shapes. It seemed they could lift you easily into the sky, where you would experience looking back at the earth below.
As I painted this wispiness of clouds, the words “fly away” came to my mind in song. I couldn’t remember anything about it but those two words sung over and over. I googled later, and found many songs with the words “Fly Away.” Many. So, when I tell you the one stuck in my mind was sung by John Denver, you may equate that with my Boomer age.
For the past two years, I have been obsessed with watching the sky on this Texas Prairie. It’s so different each day. This time, the shadow of a cloud and the bright light, cast on the horizon, caught my attention just long enough to snap a photo for studio reference. The painting of the “cloud dance” continued for weeks as I changed them with as much undetermined shape as they change themselves. But as all paintings come to an end, I finally made myself put down the brush and back away, continuing to ponder how one’s spirit can fly away.
I remembered that it was the light on the earth that attracted me to this scene. And perhaps, that is the reminder for me. While it seems easier to “fly away,” avoiding all of the problems of today, the earth is our home for now. We are here to care for it and its inhabitants. We are here to be light, to love, to guide, to encourage, to teach, and to support. I need to work on letting the worries fly away, casting my burdens to God, trusting that He cares for us.
And I’m reminded of that other Fly Away song that the old timers always requested at Sunday Night Hymn Pick — I’ll Fly Away. “…And when I die, Hallelujah, By and By, I’ll Fly Away.”
My morning meditation thought — As you build homes, doing all the tasks of daily life, remember to take time to look up.
While looking at my “to do” list of tasks that needed to be taken care of, the sounds of birds and beautiful light beckoned me outside to paint! Grabbing my gear, I walked around to find something to paint. I decided to focus on the bluebird house that my husband built. The warm light hit across the tree where it was hanging. I thought of the bluebirds that would soon begin building nests inside as spring approaches.
Some artists wear earbuds while they paint outside. They are missing the point! The sounds of birds and other creatures of nature is one of the senses that draws me outside to plein air painting.
As I painted the box, a repetitive bird sound caused me to look above me. It was a bright red cardinal! The rhythm of his call could have been, “Hey, why don’t you look up?” As I lifted my eyes to the sky, spotted him among the beauty of branches, and inhaled fresh air, my spirit soared. I was refreshed as I remembered that it is easy to be absorbed in the shadows of life around us. But, when we lift our eyes and spirit toward The Creator God, we are refreshed. Once again, I’m in awe of the beauty of the earth and comforted by the spirit of the Lord, and ready to move ahead to the tasks of the day.
(I videoed the cardinal singing in the treetops. You can find it on my Instagram account @melaniestokesart.)
A recent paintout with Outdoor Painters Society in Temple, Texas, took me to Summers Mill Retreat Center near Belton. The acreage is full of vistas and vignettes for a visual artist’s delight!
It’s always more fun to paint with a friend, so Karla and I searched together through many possibilities for painting on the property. One little thing that captured my attention was the light on the edge of an old wagon as it leaned under a cabin’s shelter. So, we set up our gear under the nearby massive oak to enjoy a few hours of painting there. (Well, actually Karla was sitting on the back of her car because she forgot her tripod, but that’s beside the point.)
As I painted, I enjoyed the shade of the oak, the sunshine on my back, and the sounds of children playing in the distance. Families strolled by and some individuals wandered over to see what I was doing. After a few quick conversations, I would return to the visual dance that the sunlight was having with the old wooden wagon. What was up with that pale turquoise green color in the late 1800s? It seems to show up in houses and furniture and now on this wagon. Was it on sale or something?
Now, here is the rest of the story…
The scene The wheel I was paintingGrandaddy’s Wagon HubMy painting in progress
As I painted the wagon wheel, I noticed the rusty metal rim tires, the faded wood of the spokes and then the cup shaped metal and wood that formed the hub in the center of the wheel. And suddenly, there was a familiarity hugging me that took me by surprise! It was the same as a wagon wheel hub I have sitting in my house! The same as the wagon wheel hub I possess from my grandfather’s old wagon, the one that probably belonged to his father, the one that I brought in my move as one of several family treasures that connect us to our ancestors. Back in the day, Grandaddy Miller drove a wagon that must have looked like this one! And the connection grabbed me, quite took me by surprise, and made me almost gasp! I could almost visualize the grandfather, who I only knew in childhood, hooking a mule to that old wagon and rattling up a dirt road in the hills of North Georgia. It was one of those serendipitous events that make you go, “Awww.” Those are the little bonuses that often happen on a plein air adventure!
After a few days of painting in both cold and warm weather, being with like-minded artists, exploring new places, and even having a visit with a Fallin cousin who lives only one hour away from me, I’m back home now. (And, found that my sweet husband remembered to clean up the kitchen!) Sometimes, this life is just plain good!
