22 x 26"
Watercolor on Saunders Waterford
I’m a sucker for sunflowers. They take me back to August at the foot of Pikes Peak when the day’s heat had bleached the grasses and the only greens were scrub oak, pine trees and these. I grew up wild from the age of ten on, spending all my spare time hiking through the bluffs we lived in and watching the world grow. The sunflowers grew wild like me, sprinkled lavishly across the the buffs and tans. They didn’t hang out with trees or bushes, though, and the best ones were near some old rusted machinery a previous rancher had left behind. Oddly enough, I never drew them. Sunflowers only come out when I paint.
