My husband Alex arrange a camping trip for us about a month ago. It was all just a bit of a dream looking back; unlike any camp experience I have had before. Our little camp spot turned out to be a great little grassy (unreal) area for our tent. We hung hammocks and cooked our food with a Jet Boil, and just relaxed the entire time. We would read books to each other and play card games in between little adventures to the river and hikes that felt more like getting lost. The weather was utterly humid and hot, but I think that made for the experience.
On one of our hikes, which we both later agreed we had gone off the marked trail, we came down a wooded hillside and into a meadow, just before reaching the riverbed. In that meadow I saw this beautiful, quiet, and ever so charming tree. I stopped and took a picture, and absorbed some of the atmosphere, just knowing I would take it to my studio to paint.
You may have seen on my Instagram of Facebook page if you follow me there, but the day I painted this meadow tree was just as nostalgic-like as the day I encountered it. Here is what I said of it:
It sounded like a train was passing by my house as I painted today. It was only a huge Midwest storm with big, loud thunder. The heat and humidity stayed. My power went out. So I lit candles and painted by the candle light (a first time for that.) I had one album on my laptop that I didn't have to stream from the unusable internet: Grieg. Couldn't have been better. The lights came back on as I signed my name at the bottom of the painting. ..I think this painting painted itself.
