Pardon my hyperbole, but I've never seen such angst ridden clouds in my life. And, I must add, this is NOT tweaked or enhanced in Photoshop—this is straight off my iPhone, as is. Check out those dramatic swirls and angry tufts of wet air twisting across this cactus riddled ridge up on Morningstar. "Violent Skies," would be my name for a subsequent painting—assuming I can even capture the subtle, rippled torque of it all.
Took these yesterday on my walk up Old Stage Road. Although these dramatic skies are a wonderful distraction, I am still hell bent on finishing my Wild Bill cover concept and I charged back to the studio with renewed energy, chocked full of new approaches and a willingness to roll up my sleeves (metaphorically, since I'm in a paint splattered T-shirt) and bail in with new vigor.
"Jack McCall, I'm thankful to you, even though you've killed me. Wild Bill does not die by the hand of a woman."
—Wild Bill Hickok's last words as quoted by the nefarious Ned Buntline