Before painting, I studied this scene for a long time. I thought about it, wrote about it, felt it. Considered what about it meant the most to me. Then I painted. So often, I rush into a plein air painting to hurry and get it done before I run out of time/light/energy. Whatever. This time I took it slow. It felt like the water came shooting out like cannonfire from the side of the tree-covered bluff. The walls of the bay echoed and amplified its thunder.
The light shape against the dark ground interested me most. I felt no obligation to explain what happened to the water once it hit the pool beneath the falls. Or to delineate the hundreds of thousands of trees surrounding its wonder. Just the shape and brilliance of the falls. Maybe the painting suffered because I did not include enough information or detail. Or, maybe it is the briefest of poems with lots of gaps for others to fill and interpret this landscape for themselves.
No less than 10 falls dropped from the cliffs towering 1000' above this bay. After a cloudy and showery evening, morning broke with a clear sky and warm breeze. Two black bears prowled the shore, fishing and eating the tender vegetation. What a place!
