Harry Allen Trail

Freezing and windy, that about sums up this mornings painting session. It’s was as if an invisible hand flipped a switch on the weather. The morning started out pleasant and then the temperature dropped and what was a light breeze turned into a roaring gale.

Twice my painting nearly flew off the easel. At one point my pallet caught the wind just right and flipped over upon itself, splattering the oil jar across my working space. What was my reserve jar of medium was then carried away by another tempest and emptied itself into the hillside. I painted till my hands turned blue then called it quits and ran for coffee.

oil painting
9x12in oil on panel

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