Life Imitates Art

There is an absolute ferocity of rain, which, out dutifully mailing prints, I was caught in. It is the cold, pounding, non-lethal-but-man-that-sucks sort of penetrating rain that makes attempts to scurry rapidly out the way useless. You just walk through it, head down, thinking longingly of the warm dry car (even if the car is cold and slightly soggy by the time you manuever into it.)

It’s interesting though–the view out the glass door onto the deck is of the greenbelt behind the house. Fine and good. At the moment, it’s brown, brown, brown, a little gray, a little russet, but mostly brown vertical tree trunks and brown dead leaves. (I’m told in the spring it will be a cacaphony of green.) Look through the trunks, and you see more trunks, slightly less contrasted because of good ‘ol atmospheric perspective, so the effect is brown-brown-less saturated brown-until the whole thing finally blurs out to a medium french gray (or just turns into the burnt orange leaf cover.) But because the rain was so intense, the upper reaches of what is normally french gray turned a sort of blue-roan at the top, (really gray, but looking much more blue because of the orange below) a quick and subtle effect of the sort you might do in a painting to suggest rain or overcast clouds but which is surprising in a way to see in physical reality.

It was just kinda quick and neat and wanted to be mentioned. I love it when physical reality acts like paint–you spend so much time trying to get it t’other way that it’s sort of encouraging.

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