My mentor, Reid Galey, died suddenly in 2010. I learned to paint plein aire at his side–and occasionally, behind him, throwing things such as cow pies at him in the midst of his demos. This painting was born on my first trip after his death to often-trod painting grounds outside of Cody, WY. A favorite aspen glen had changed.  Acres of trees had been razed because of a pine blight; the background behind my favorite aspens was gone. It was all so stark. For the first time, I was attracted to the path that led from the glen, especially by the light that called to me from just beyond the turn ahead. It was as if Reid was by my side at my easel, encouraging me to find hope and promise in the unseen future.

Oil on panel     12”  X  7-1/4”

I am fascinated by the way sunlight teases and plays with us. I was standing in a small park in the foothills of the Rockies when I saw this small gravel road winding through it.  As I stood there, I noticed that the flat afternoon light had changed and that just around the bend and just out of my sight the sun was popping through. It reminded me of a story or a fairy tale where some traveler, wandering through the woods, feeling tired or lost, growing weak and ready to give up, suddenly spied a bit of light just out of their field of vision. And that warm light gave them hope and the energy to continue. It was the warmth and reassurance of a promise.

Oil on linen panel     8-1/4”  X  6-3/4”