Cowpasture Crossing

 

Cowpasture Crossing

8" x 10" oil on Belgian Linen

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I had scoped out this spot on my first day in Highland County - I wanted to paint it because I loved the shadows on the dirt road and the way the Cowpasture River (yep, that's the Cowpasture - see previous post) reflected the sky above. To get to the spot you cross a swinging bridge and head upstream from the junction of the Bullpasture and Cowpasture.  The Cowpasture River looks more like a hog wallow here than a river. 

I know no one wants to hear me complain about standing by a river, painting, but this painting was torture to make.  I was nervous because, while painting my first painting of The Junction, I had seen some sort of fertilizer or manure spreader with wheels taller than I am, pass through the very spot I would be painting. While I hadn't seen any no trespassing signs, I worried that if the farmer saw me standing on his land, he might not like it.  Whether he minded me painting there or not, he would have to pass back through on his way home. Hopefully, he would finish and head back before I finished my first painting. He didn't, and I decided to risk it. 

While painting this painting, I could hear the spreader doing its thing, so it was looming in the back of my mind that I might have to face an angry farmer or at least have to move my easel mid-painting to get out of his way. This sounds bad, but I also didn't want to have to take a break to talk to the farmer because it only takes a few minutes for the light to change completely. Now, I was hoping I would finish the painting before he finished the spreading

While the impending interaction with the farmer was unnerving, that was not the torturous part.  If you've ever seen a cow covered in biting black flies, that's what I'm guessing I looked like.  There were no cows around, only my dog Rainey, who drew in even more flies, so they all came to me.  At least cows have tails to swat with- I had a brush in one hand and paint on the other, so swatting was not an option.  

Then, as I was contemplating giving up out of pure misery, here came the manure spreader.  An alien rover with tinted windows - I had no idea who or what was going to hop out of that thing.  Rainey was cowering and refused to move and the thing didn't seem to be slowing down. I had to jerk Rainey by the collar with one hand while holding my tripod and easel in the other and trying to keep all of my brushes from sliding off the tray.  I got Rainey into the bushes beside the road, however, I had to search for my brushes.  

Finally, the thing stopped. What hopped out was a sixteen-ish year old boy who was nice as could be. He apologized profusely for making me move and said he wouldn't have to come back through again that day. So that was a lot of worry about nothing.  Regardless, I was done with this painting.  Despite the mental and physical torture, it turned out ok.