Portland sunsets never cease to amaze me. The other evening, the sky looked like it was on fire. Like a moth to light, I was completely drawn to the orange sky. So beautiful, yet so temporary. I'm reminded of Robert Frost's poem, Nothing Gold Can Stay.
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
If you've read The Outsiders (one of my favorite books growing up), then you're familiar with the famous utterance based on Frost's poem, "Stay gold, Ponyboy."
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Given the tragic event in Boston on Monday, I haven't been very productive this week. It's hard for me to paint a beautiful scene when I feel sad. Art is such an emotional and personal process, even when painting landscapes.
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