Shale Cliff

A painting of a shale cliff in the Alps.
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The photo underlying this picture was taken somewhere in the Alps of Switzerland. I’m blanking on its name just now, but the cliff overlooked a popular campsite. The cliff was hundreds of feet high and had several waterfalls pouring down it. I’m told the sheer sides were cut by a glacier passing through the valley in ages past.

Saint Bernard Pass

A painting of the dam near the top of the Saint Bernard Pass in the Alps.

The photo underlying this painting I took myself while I was traveling through the Alps in Europe. It shows the dam near the top of the Saint Bernard Pass. I edited this slightly to cover up the evidence of modern day: the paved road, a building, and an antenna tower are gone, and the dam now resembles what could be a wall or a bridge, part of one medieval fortress or another.

The color blotches of this picture had a habit of disappearing into each other until I added the sketch lines that picked out the rocks, snow, and ice. The ice is still done pretty lazily, and if I were to paint this again, I would probably outline each sheet instead of scribbling madly over them.

The Burn Scar

A painting of the Waldo Canyon burn scar, as seen from the top of Blodgett Peak, in Colorado, USA.
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About 7 years before the writing of this post, the Waldo Canyon Wildfire raged barely a couple of miles from my childhood home. My family had to evacuate the house. My mother described the fire coming over across the top of the mountains as “hellish”, saying the fire lit up the sky in orange, like it was sunset. Continue reading “The Burn Scar”

Going Home

“Yes, yes, you are on the ground,” said Breyd, stuttering slightly over her relief that he was okay—and not a little bit of irritation now at his recklessness. “Are you okay?”

“Good morning, dalah’surfal.” Breyd’s voice and the sound of the curtains being drawn back roused Evelos from his doze. He spent a moment staring at her, blinking in the fresh sun, before sitting up. It wasn’t as hard for him now, Breyd observed, but his lack of muscle tone still made her worry. “Do you think you could stand on your own today?” she asked. “You’ll be coming home.”

“I’ll try,” said Evelos. 

“After breakfast,” replied Breyd with firmness, and slid a bowl of broth under his chin. “Eat up, love. Or drink up, as it were.”

“My favorite,” said Evelos dryly.  Continue reading “Going Home”