"I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree." - Joyce Kilmer
Today I want to talk a little about this feeling that I have being feeling of persuing something beyound... whatever this is.
Recently, while researching contemporary landscape photographers for inspiration, I came across the delicate and atmospheric work of the artist William B. Milner. His work struck me deeply. I invite everyone to get a closer look at it in his site: https://wbmilner.com/#/woodland/. His photographies capturing the mist among the trees inspired me profoundly, and I decided to make a painting study of one of his photos, one that touched me particularly with its delicate light and colors:
Throughout the process, I realized that no matter how much I tried to mimic the photo there was something profound I was missing. It was beautiful to see that when I began to let go of the persue of perfection, I was able to capture what I actually felt when I first saw it, the magic. So i decided to share with you my process and then the final result.
Step 1 : Simplifying and understanding the core of the gray scale of the image
Step 2 : Exploring all the values of the photography ( gray scale tones and variations) and trying to encapsulate the feeling of light.
Step 3: Adding the final colors. It was nice, but it was missing something, something magical that I felt when I saw this photography for the first time. A deep feeling of enchantment and lightness, almost like a fairy tale unfolding behind the trees.
Step 4: What else I could bring ? What if .. a bit of blue, here and there ? Maybe some sparkles o pink and what if some purples ? And then I felt , yes, that is it.
I hope somehow this can lead you to some inspiration.
To finish, today I just wanted to share this poetry about trees and their beauty.. which this photographer work made me recall.
Trees
BY JOYCE KILMER
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Thank you for being here, with love,
Sarah Guedes
Beautiful!