Short story of my life to frame my thoughts on green: Born in Ohio, raised in Florida, lived in NYC for 4 years -which is the great reason I moved to Alaska.

Looking back on my Florida years I recall a certain discomfort that I just couldn’t put my finger on at the time. In retrospect I suspect it was the constant greenness, the lack of seasons I had experienced in my very early years.

New York City;
An interesting period, States of Emergency called over 3 inches of snow. Taking the ferry to Staten Island for a weekend camping trip and hopping on a bus in the dark of the evening, trying to look out the bus window with a topo map in hand, getting off in what we thought was deep woodland, setting up camp, in the forest, awaking in the morning to the sound of someone shouting “Fore!”

Alaska;
Spring’s the blink of an eye, the wild roses bloom, soon gone as the rose hips form.

Summer’s midnight sun, white nights, almost seeing the growth of brome grass as it gains inches everyday reaching up to five feet tall by fall.

Autumn, hectic autumn, so much to do before winter, so little time.

Winter; Snug inside, noting the snow go from blue to rose as the noonday sun barely peaks above the horizon. Trips to town to shop, dressed as if, or carting clothing for, a ten mile walk home at a temperature of -40°, ’cause that just might happen if the vehicle fails.

So! Over the years I’ve come to appreciate and anticipate the greens, the vivid spring greens that almost hurt the eyes, the softer summer shades and the comfort ‘neath that shade, the poignant green yellows moving toward a russet fall.

However looking back at paintings, sketches, pastels I’ve done over the years I notice my palette changed with the seasons; rich and vibrant in the spring, mellowed shades on summer works, frantic hues in autumn and soft, relaxing pastels in the long winter night.

Greens are good, quite good, in their season, in their place, in their time, but in a painting in a year, in a lifetime, the contrasts are grand!