A High Wind Warning is in effect this weekend for the Seattle area. Batten the hatches, and be safe. Below: a small collection of wind storm paintings. If you see something that should be added to the collection, please post it here.
A Gust of Wind (Le coup de vent), 1865, by Jean-Baptiste Camille Corot (1796-1875), oil on canvas, 60×80 cm.
JMTurner, Waves Breaking Against the Wind
JMTurner, Snow Storm – Hannibal and his army crossing the alps 1812
Winslow Homer, The West Wind 1891
John Steuart Curry, 1897-1946, The Line Storm
Tom Thomson, West Wind
James Edward Hervey MacDonald (Group of Seven)
Lois Dodd, Approaching Storm Cloud, 1998
Andrew Wyeth, Wind from the Sea, 1947
Tracie Cheng, Windstorm
Hokusai, A Sudden Gust of Wind
Utagawa Kuniyoshi
Thomas Blackshear, Dance of the Wind and Storm
Wind
This house has been far out at sea all night,
The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills,
Winds stampeding the fields under the window
Floundering black astride and blinding wet
Till day rose; then under an orange sky
The hills had new places, and wind wielded
Blade-light, luminous black and emerald,
Flexing like the lens of a mad eye.
At noon I scaled along the house-side as far as
The coal-house door. Once I looked up –
Through the brunt wind that dented the balls of my eyes
The tent of the hills drummed and strained its guyrope,
The fields quivering, the skyline a grimace,
At any second to bang and vanish with a flap;
The wind flung a magpie away and a black-
Back gull bent like an iron bar slowly. The house
Rang like some fine green goblet in the note
That any second would shatter it. Now deep
In chairs, in front of the great fire, we grip
Our hearts and cannot entertain book, thought,
Or each other. We watch the fire blazing,
And feel the roots of the house move, but sit on,
Seeing the window tremble to come in,
Hearing the stones cry out under the horizons.
A lot of V. Note ideas wither because they are just one little thought or artwork, and I don’t have it in me to flush them out into a complete chapter. I’ve been thinking I should post more of these single notes. Here’s one: an automatic writing by Bruno Leyval. Automatic Writing/Drawing: writing or drawing produced without …
[image_with_animation image_url=”9488″ alignment=”” animation=”None” box_shadow=”none” max_width=”100%”] This is the third part of a multi day series, sharing work by my beginning figure drawing classes. Many of these students have never taken a drawing class before, nearly all of them are new to figure drawing. Rather than learning one style, we study a different approach every …
[image_with_animation image_url=”9462″ alignment=”” animation=”None” box_shadow=”none” max_width=”100%”] This is the second part of a multi day series, sharing work by my beginning figure drawing classes. Many of these students have never taken a drawing class before, almost all of them are new to figure drawing. Rather than learning one style, I offer a completely different stylistic …
This is day 4 of the 30SAL creative challenge! To learn more about this 30 day challenge, click here. Looking at only the back of this altarpiece fragment, imagine what the front looks like, and recreate it. You can draw, paint, lay out baguettes and hosiery, or anything else that inspires you. Share your drawing …
Wind Storms
A High Wind Warning is in effect this weekend for the Seattle area. Batten the hatches, and be safe. Below: a small collection of wind storm paintings. If you see something that should be added to the collection, please post it here.
Wind
This house has been far out at sea all night,
The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills,
Winds stampeding the fields under the window
Floundering black astride and blinding wet
Till day rose; then under an orange sky
The hills had new places, and wind wielded
Blade-light, luminous black and emerald,
Flexing like the lens of a mad eye.
At noon I scaled along the house-side as far as
The coal-house door. Once I looked up –
Through the brunt wind that dented the balls of my eyes
The tent of the hills drummed and strained its guyrope,
The fields quivering, the skyline a grimace,
At any second to bang and vanish with a flap;
The wind flung a magpie away and a black-
Back gull bent like an iron bar slowly. The house
Rang like some fine green goblet in the note
That any second would shatter it. Now deep
In chairs, in front of the great fire, we grip
Our hearts and cannot entertain book, thought,
Or each other. We watch the fire blazing,
And feel the roots of the house move, but sit on,
Seeing the window tremble to come in,
Hearing the stones cry out under the horizons.
— Ted Hughes
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Automatic writing by Bruno Leyval
A lot of V. Note ideas wither because they are just one little thought or artwork, and I don’t have it in me to flush them out into a complete chapter. I’ve been thinking I should post more of these single notes. Here’s one: an automatic writing by Bruno Leyval. Automatic Writing/Drawing: writing or drawing produced without …
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