Shades of gray and white snake down the windshield as rain pounds the metal roof of my van. I am hoping for a break in the weather to continue my painting streak of capturing the barns of northern Missouri. Two-a-day I'd been averaging before this thunderstorm rolled up on me. Couldn't let a little rain stop me so I opened the back doors of my van and painted the scene through the open doors. This unexpected challenge fired me up. The dirt road stretching out from beneath my feet had more color in it than I realized. The tapping from the rain hitting my van changed to music as i began to paint that dirt road I had traveled earlier in the day.
My eyes were seeing the beauty of that road and it's possibilities for my canvas. The weathered fence took on more character and the multiple shades of gold appeared in the Autumn corn still standing. In the distance, the red barn I had passed on, now looked more interesting through the veil of falling rain. Tire tracks filling with water reflected the dark storm clouds, adding to the interest I was suddenly finding. A lone figure rushed from the barn to the back of large farm house. Wash was hanging on a line stretching from the house to the light pole near what appeared to be a chicken coup. I was seeing more as I painted.
A wave of heavy rain completely wiped out the scene beyond the farm house. All turned a grayish white. I pulled back into the van as the rain wave hit it. Near deafening sound from the rain brought on a feeling of being small for an instant. I reached for the palette and painted out the trees in the distance I had added to my painting. My heart was racing to capture this storm that, at first, had dampened my spirits just an hour before. Thick paint was leaving my brush as my hand took on the feelings of the scene rushing through my brain. My body was responding to what I was seeing, skipping the process of analyzing it through the artist in me. The downer of the rain had turn to a high.
