I love summer. Some people complain about the heat. Not me. I complain about people who complain about the heat. I love the heat. I bask in the heat like a turtle. I’m not talking about getting a suntan, mind you. That’s bad for your health. I’m talking about a sitting in deep shade, sweat still pouring off me, sweltering in the 90% humidity and loving it kind of appreciation of summer. I’ll admit: a breeze can be good too.
So, I love to paint summer pictures. I’m not the only one enjoying humidity. Plants love humidity, and they grow like crazy, and I like to see them grow. When summer gets really maniac with stuff growing everywhere, I’m in heaven.
I love the round, billowing forms of folliage on trees. I love fonds of grass, the scribbly texture of weeds growing with abandon. I love the texture, the layers, the depths, the color, and the long hours of daylight. Consequently I enjoy painting images like the one above, summers of fact, and summers of imagination.
[Top of the post: Crepe Myrtles in August, by Aletha Kuschan, acrylic on canvas]