Studying as well as photographing the never-ending train of cloud beauty outside the mountaintop studio inspires shapes and dynamics of the "Cloud Capture" series. My intention was to create illusions hovering or building up in front of a stark background.
My color pencil works display best under spotlight in a medium kelvin range.
Thoughts of oddity during process:
When will we stop dividing, conquering and selling off nature's majesty? Or should it say: At what will we stop?
The surreal act of catching a cloud and displaying it in a cage. What would a cloud look like completely removed from its environment? Will it eventually feel lonely? Can it ever be morally acceptable to have a cloud for sale and turn it into a convenient availability? Can I still recognize the beauty of a cloud sitting behind my desk when the office curtains are almost closed?
The sky and light in my recent work represent hopeful thoughts. The fact that no one can ever own a cloud or sell them off and destroy the sky in the process appears comforting to me. No matter how far we ride the global avalanche of bad decision making, this beauty may always be there. Yet after saying all this... ironically I find myself realizing that I'm metaphorically trying to capture a piece of sky hoping to later on display and show ownership of.
Description:
81 lines, 10 different shades and colors used
Studying as well as photographing the never-ending train of cloud beauty outside the mountaintop studio inspires shapes and dynamics of the "Cloud Capture" series. My intention was to create illusions hovering or building up in front of a stark background.
My color pencil works display best under spotlight in a medium kelvin range.
Thoughts of oddity during process:
When will we stop dividing, conquering and selling off nature's majesty? Or should it say: At what will we stop?
The surreal act of catching a cloud and displaying it in a cage. What would a cloud look like completely removed from its environment? Will it eventually feel lonely? Can it ever be morally acceptable to have a cloud for sale and turn it into a convenient availability? Can I still recognize the beauty of a cloud sitting behind my desk when the office curtains are almost closed?
The sky and light in my recent work represent hopeful thoughts. The fact that no one can ever own a cloud or sell them off and destroy the sky in the process appears comforting to me. No matter how far we ride the global avalanche of bad decision making, this beauty may always be there. Yet after saying all this... ironically I find myself realizing that I'm metaphorically trying to capture a piece of sky hoping to later on display and show ownership of.