About This Painting:Tonalist Nocturne
Title: Moon Glow
Artist: Jan Blencowe
Media: acrylic on linen
Size: 20 in X 16 in (50.8 cm X 40.6 cm)
Price: $480 USD + $15 s/h in the USA
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I'm a moon person. I just love looking at the moon, and watching it go through it cycle each month. I find that whole specticle delightful. I am often up late and I love the silent hours of the night when it's just the moon and me.
January's moon was known by colonial Americans as winter moon, by the Celts as the quiet moon, in Medieval times as the wolf moon, and by the Dakotah Souix as moon of the terrible. For more moon folklore click here.
Here's how I brought today's painting, Moon Glow, to completion. I added some detail to the edges of all the tree foliage, and then added more layers of texture using a fan brush and glazed the edges with a thin mix of transparent yellow and orange. More thin layers of glaze in an olive green and transprent red oxide were added to the grasses also using the fan brush. I deepened the sky and clouds with glazes and added a shimmery warm white glow around the moon using a dry brush scumble. I've added one isolation coat using binder medium, and will add one or two more before applying a final glossy varnish. I really wish there was a way for you to see on your computer screen the depth and luminosity in these tonalist paintings, but alas they are best viewed in person, and they look particularly striking in a simple, wide gold frame.
Can you locate the detail areas from yesterday's post? Tomorrows painting is almost done, twin waterfalls in a great small square format.
Half Moon in a High Wind
by Carl Sandburg
MONEY is nothing now, even if I had it,
O mooney moon, yellow half moon,
Up over the green pines and gray elms,
Up in the new blue.
White lacey mist sheets of cloud,
Streel in the blowing of the wind,
Streel over the blue-and-moon sky,
Yellow gold half moon.
It is lightOn the snow; it is dark on the snow,
Streel, O lacey thin sheets, up in the new blue.
Come down, stay there, move on.
I want you, I don’t, keep all.
There is no song to your singing.
I am hit deep, you drive far,
O mooney yellow half moon,
Steady, steady; or will you tip over?
Or will the wind and the streeling
Thin sheets only pass and move on
And leave you alone and lovely?
I want you, I don’t, come down,
Stay there, move on.
Money is nothing now, even if I had it.