Another watercolor finished at the festival, April 17, 2010


Arlington Railroad trestle

This is the second watercolor I finished today while sitting in my art booth, avoiding the downpour that cursed us the entire day.  Fortunately, the sales were still good, and ultimately, I got to “make hay while the sun didn’t shine.”  Tomorrow is the final day of the festival, and I wish to God I could get through a day without rain.  If not, I’ll just work on more watercolors, I suppose.

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6 Responses to “Another watercolor finished at the festival, April 17, 2010”

  1. lindahalcombfineart Says:

    This scene does have a very nostalgic, worn, experienced feel. Very nice.


  2. Ji Says:

    admirable art!


  3. Ji Says:

    two awards for you!


  4. artbythepaintedbrush Says:

    You did a beautiful job on this, love it.


  5. John I. Blair Says:

    For some reason I really like this painting of the trestle in west Arlington. You’ve caught the ineffable nostalgia inherent in any wooden trestle structure, the mystery of what lies around any curve, beyond any underpass, the soft beauty of the vegetation. All in what most would find a quintessentially mundane object. Thanks for sharing it.
    I grew up between the Santa Fe track and the Rock Island track in Wichita, at the end of the Age of Steam. My nights were punctuated by steam whistles at the crossing a block east of our house. My childhood memories by the occasional derailments on the very badly maintained Rock Island track a block west. Instead of balance beams, kids back then used rails to practice equipoise. (I also enjoy your paintings of railroad engines.)


    • davidtripp Says:

      Thanks for looking, John, and for sharing those “Proustian” memories from your youth. Trains fascinated me as a small child (growing up in the transition to diesels, and looking up at the F-diesels). When I grew up and went away to college (5 hours from home, with no car) I would awake, alone, in the dorm room, before dawn (ROTC was at 7:00) and hear the sound of freight trains in the distance. The melancholy sound of those diesel horns brought me some kind of comfort in those lonely moments that I cannot put into words that make any kind of sense. At any rate, I still have a fixation with trains, always staring at them when I’m driving down the highway, and now I’ve returned to painting them.


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