Nature helping poor art imitate nature

Inspired by all the good artistry going on at Lapin's Garden, I tried to get in touch with my inner Bobness

and paint a freehand picture of the southern Bitterroot Mountains.  It has been years since I've tried to do any oil painting, and I was never very good at it, anyway.  I quickly remembered why I haven't tried it in years.  It's never near as easy as that afro-wearing individual makes it look.  He takes a few quick strokes with his knife and makes gorgeous looking mountains, and then he dabs his fan brush around to make a bunch of realistic "happy little trees." 

I think my paint must've been too dry, because it didn't spread properly to make good mountains, and it wouldn't stick to the canvas, so my trees just weren't happy at all.  By the time I was about two-thirds done, I got disgusted and quit.  I exiled the unfinished painting out to my deck.

I took this photo from a safe distance.  The painting looks better the farther away you get from it.

Then Mother Nature stepped in.  During the last big snowstorm, the snow blew in horizontally out of the north.  While I was out playing Thoreau, being "self-appointed inspector of snow-storms and rain-storms," I noticed that the wind had plastered some of the fresh snow onto the painting.  The effect was pretty cool, giving the painting more of a three dimensional look.  (The trees still ain't happy, though.)

I may take another shot at painting a mountain scene in the near future, but don't look for me to be growing my hair out into an afro any time soon.