Good morning!
I hope you're doing well and feeling happy. I wanted to write to you
before Thanksgiving this year. I've so much to be thankful for! Friends
and art are a couple of them.
And the other day I was invited by a friend to attend an art talk at
the college. It was spur of the moment, but it sounded like a great
idea.
At the beginning of the talk, the artist said something that gave me
pause to consider. He said he had wanted to capture the aloneness of
the landscape. I had the feeling he meant an empty feeling of aloneness.
It made me think about how some people don't like solitude. Especially
the solitude of being in nature alone. They just aren't comfortable
when in an unpopulated area.
About ten years ago I met a woman from San Diego. She was in Wyoming
for the first statewide plein air event held here. We met in Cheyenne
and I invited her to stay at our house as she was heading to
Yellowstone and that area to paint.
When she got here, she told us about driving between Laramie and
Wheatland on Highway 34. She hadn't met one vehicle all the way and had
no cell phone service. It was unnerving and frightening to her.
As I've gotten older I'm not as cocky as I used to be and I'm certainly
more aware of what could go wrong along an expanse of lonely highway
with no cell phone service.
But I still love the feeling of solitude I get when looking at an empty
expanse of prairie or woods. The solitude never feels lonely to me. And
I suspect you may be the same way.
I like having sun and wind, trees and bushes, mountains and rivers for
companions. In a year that has been trying for all of us, in various
and numerous ways, I'm so very thankful that I live in this place.
Whether I'm looking on it from the coziness of my warm house or out in
it, I love being here. The swish of dry grasses ruffled by the wind, or
the rustle of leaves, the smell of sagebrush when it brushes against my
jeans, and so many other gifts of nature, are all balm for a weary soul.
And since you can't be here, with me, I'm sending you as much of the
solitude I love, as I can, with these paintings. I hope they bring a
deep sigh of peace and comfort to your soul.
Rabbit Brush
Rabbit Brush 16x20 oil
I love Rabbit Brush. It pops up all over the place out here. Sometimes,
like this place, it goes on in winding patterns, mixed in with grass
and sagebrush.
Autumn on the River
Autumn on the River 18x24 oil
This painting is alive with texture. It makes me feel like I'd like to
be sitting in the sun, nestled in the grass, just listening to the
water and life around me.
Aspen Dance
Aspen Dance
Aspen Dance
16x12 oil
What can I say? Aspen leaves flutter and dance in the slightest breeze,
but they hold on tight enough to not blow away, until the time is right.
As, I said at the beginning of my letter, I wanted to write to you
before Thanksgiving this year. Sometimes I wait till afterwards. But I
really want to tell you that I'm very thankful to have you in my life.
Although I love, and seem to need, the wide open spaces, I also love
and need people. Especially people like you.
So, thank you for writing back to me when you do, for buying my
paintings and commenting on them, and for telling me how things are
going with you. You are the perfect balance to the alone time I have
in, and out of, the studio.
I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving. I'm so very thankful for you,
Ginny
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