Home Again

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From the top of the big meadow on the Oftedahl Ranch, I painted this familiar scene. A doe wandered around through my Dad’s log decks behind me, inching closer and closer out of curiosity. Finally she came right up onto the hill in front of my easel, and pawed at the ground, challenging my right to paint there. I wondered how I would describe the sound a deer makes. I think I’d say it’s a cross between the word “shoo” and “chew,” whispered as loudly as possible. There’s never any end to the distractions when you’re painting, pleasant as they may be. But at least I have a supportive husband who takes turns with the kids and lets me go paint and talk to deer. 

Great Grandpa’s Garages

When I was a kid, I spent a whole summer in these sheds catching rabbits with my sisters and cousins, and  they provided a maze of good hiding places for the rabbits. Dusty, greasy, full of rusty iron tools and filthy old tires… Great grandpa filled them up with his treasures. But that's not why I painted them. I painted them because as Harvey Dunn says it, they “reflect... the glorious light of heaven.”