A Walk In The Snowy Woods

 

“The closer we come to Nature, the closer we touch the core of life … Nature makes us aware of the preciousness of Life. Nature tells us that Life is precious not only because it is, but because it does not have to be.” – Henri Nouwen

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

By Robert Frost

 

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

 

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

 

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

 

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

 

I could no longer walk in the waist-high snow and tumble and frolic.  In fact, I would not if I could because I do not enjoy winter’s bite and never have.  When I think walk in the woods, I envision spring, summer, or fall.  I could not bear to do a winter scene as we are breaking cold records here.

You will be shocked at the number of layers to get this far on the painting.

 

I begin with warming the page... simply to chase away the white.

Then, painting the mixed media page a hunter’s green and leaving streaks, completely erased the white and I could begin.

 

 

I continued to play with color and added some lime and some hunter’s green.

 

 

I had no plan…I simply wanted color in my world… now Christmas lights were off.  I blobs on color and used my brayer.

 

 

More colors and a stiff-haired brush.,

 

 

Next shapes of colours to lighten up

 

 

At first , I saw birds, but I moved on and, suddenly, there were leaves. 

 

More brayer work, because I had not focused yet on what I wanted.

 

Then it started to happen… I whitened out the background, for the most part, leaving the shapes of the leaves.  Yes, winter returned.

 

Slowly, SHE became evident

 

And, yes, there is still danged winter.

 

She has some kind of leaf patch over her eye and it drove me around the bend and I put her away, honoring that Muse wanted it there.  A bit of penwork happened... and I may come back to her…

©Carol Desjarlais 1.3.22