Sage after rain on the trail to Blue Mountain. Cadmium yellow deep in the highlights, Payne’s gray in the shadows.
The sage this morning smelled like Coltrane’s low register—earthy, resonant, a little smoky. I mixed a wash of viridian and burnt umber and let it sit while the coffee cooled. The color dried cooler than I expected, the way the hills turn when the sun drops behind the Bitterroots.
Palette note: Viridian + burnt umber + a touch of quinacridone rose for the distant haze. Georgia O’Keeffe would have stayed with the bone-white of the sky; I keep reaching for the sage instead.
Wild huckleberries near Pattee Canyon. The berries are almost black when fully ripe; the leaves carry a cool sap-green that sings against the fruit.
These berries will go into the galette later. For now they live on the paper as a wash of ultramarine blue deepened with alizarin crimson. The stems are raw sienna dragged dry so the paper shows through. It feels right for the exhibition—small, grounded work that remembers the taste of rain and the sound of the creek.
John Coltrane once said the music is already there; you just have to get out of the way. Same with these colors. The land keeps offering them. I only have to mix them slowly and listen.
- Color study page on Montana sage and huckleberry tones for the upcoming show concept — A watercolor essay grounding my exhibition prep in local pigments and Coltrane-like notes; https://andrea-ward.4ort.net/colors-of-home.html