Walking the other morning I saw the first turkey vulture of the spring. I've seen robins, but it's the return of the vultures that really makes spring seem real. As we walked up the hill a couple more lifted off the field to our right. I'd had to call Uly off a deer carcass late in the fall- either a deer hunter's lost shot, or possibly a car the culprit. After winter, I was surprised there was enough left to attract the birds.
We walked over to where I remembered it laying. There wasn't much left, nothing but scattered hair. I was amazed that the coyotes and crows could have done that thorough a job. But then our noses found it- the skeleton, drug off 50 yds downhill to the west. As we approached, there was a desperation to it's posture. A sadness. Like she was still trying to escape her long past fate.
Spring seems to finally reveal everything scraped down by winter.
Back in the studio, the scraping reveals something more hopeful. My palette is a 24 x 30 inch sheet of 1/4 inch glass. The paint eventually builds to such an uneven surface as to be unusable, and I have to go after it with a scraper.
The process reveals miniature abstract expressionist master pieces, one after another. All unintentional surprises, but beautiful. The color combinations revealed always give me pause, a chance to approach more intentional work with a broader sense of color.
