I am not a landscape artist, except apparently when I am. I rail against everything about it, from the orientation (I prefer vertical works) to the blithe doctor's-office-acceptability of them. The vast majority of landscape paintings, drawings, prints, and photos are in my audacious opinion not worth looking at twice. I might like one in three hundred. Why, then, am I painting the loathsome things?
*sigh*. I don't rightly know. I suppose part of it is that after over a decade of living in the Southwest, I still can't shake the awe of the beauty here, especially the sky. I challenge even the most jaded individual to come out here and not spontaneously utter "oh, wow."
Reason number two (if you're counting) is that as a painter, it's damned challenging. If you don't fully grasp the subtleties of warm and cool hues of the same color, you're toast. If you disregard the effects of atmospheric perspective, it's icky. If you don't go into it with absolute sincerity, it's obvious and you slink away, humbled.
Reason three is simple: it sells, because it does have universal appeal. And though I've garnered a modest amount of critical acclaim, I still could never support myself doing this (a shout out to my sugar daddy--uh, I mean my supportive spouse). I fully intend to go around to some doctors' offices and see if they'll bite.
Lastly, I'm working up to work en plein air (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/En_plein_air), because it forces you to see quickly and accurately, then get everything relevant down before the light changes. It's analogous to figure drawing in that it depends on economy of line, prioritizing forms & values, and making choices quickly. I dig that pressure.
So please, email me to make a reasonable offer on these early works before the doctors snap 'em all up!