I love this painting. I could get lost in it. I could walk right up to that cabin and go inside. I'd start a fire in the stone fireplace. I'd make myself some hot cocoa. Then I'd sit in front of the fire, sip my cocoa, and let the crackling fire talk to me against the backdrop of silence deepened by the snow. I'd watch only the dancing flames. I'd think of nothing. Ah! Peace.
This was my first painting. So far, it is my only painting. But someday. Maybe someday.
I am especially pleased with my interpretation of the trees with their delicate yet daring colors. I am pleased with my mountain stream that mirrors the gray sky above. But my cabin. Too orange.
My son is a gifted artist. His home looks like an art gallery. The walls in his two-story living room are filled with huge ambitious paintings that are alive with magnificent color. He makes his living in other ways, because being an artist is practically a non-profit profession. Maybe someday when he has time he can teach me.