Clouds. I love clouds. I love painting them, whether from the ground or from space. There are so many different looks clouds have that you can never get bored painting them. Clouds reflecting the setting sun morph through so many amazing colors, which fill the evening air with radiant color that it is almost drinkable.
Massive walls of clouds glowing like distant mountains reaching for the roof of heaven make me wish they could be climbed. My imagination takes wing as I stare at them, thinking of the hidden kingdoms their cottony folds may hide. Thin layers of clouds smoothed by air currents to look like waves lapping upon a shore or split by the winds to appear as river banks in the sky.
I have stood captivated by steely gray dawns filled with fast-moving dark clumps of vapor rushing from horizon to horizon like some vast armada. Dark, stormy clouds twisting and churning with the portent of the weather they bring. One of my favorite clouds is fog, the groundling cousin. I love the softness it brings to the world both visually and sonically. I enjoy walking through the muffled whiteness of a foggy morning, feeling the gentle touch of the trapped sky.
If an artist chose to paint only clouds, I don’t think they could ever run out of inspiration or different ways to portray them. I think it would be a life well spent.