Last night, walking the dogs again, the moon was nearly full but behind a cloudy-almost-overcast sky. There was enough light to discern rudimentary shapes but it was diffused and projected no shadows. I began to feel a familiar sensation.
I’m often struck by how a painting, that first seemed foreign to me, slaps back into my memory as an intimate friend. A sudden recognition of a place I’ve been many times before.
That’s how the low contrast hazy atmosphere of last nights walk felt. I was walking through a tonalist landscape like the Bruce Crane painting hanging on the first floor gallery at the Swope.
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