Before moving to the mountains of southwest Virginia I lived in Montgomery AL for five years. My boyfriend and my dog and I lived in a cute little duplex in a neighborhood full of old trees. We often called it our Hobbit Hole because there were so many trees around us that there were only small pockets of sky to see from our house.
My favorite part about that house was the light that came in the windows. Because of all the trees and the humidity in the air, the light in the house was a minty warm green color. It was almost like living on the floor of a rain forest.
In the front of the house we had a large window with five long skinny vertical panes of glass. I loved this window for its light and I often set up my easel in front of it. The scene was my everyday- a street, the neighbor’s yard, some trees far away, a bush, and some crate myrtles in our front yard. I liked to think of these pieces of the motif as players in a play. They all took on different roles in the composition shifting as the light moved across the sky.
I don’t particularly remember making this picture. I know I painted the scene about a dozen times but this one slipped out of my memory. I love that a painting or a picture of any kind can serve that purpose- a piece of forgotten living- a souvenir from everyday life somewhere in the past.
I do remember when the light would fade at the end of the day and the last bits of golden hour would strike the walls of the brick apartment complex down the street from us. The light on the brick made this brilliant soft pink in contrast with the whimsical dusty colors of dusk everywhere else.
To learn more about this picture and others you can visit my online Saatchi store here. Thanks for reading!