This little painting is a palm-sized window onto a volcanic palisade that watched over our daily hikes in the Davis Mountains for a couple of decades. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve paused here, my heart already thumping from the first part of the climb up the mountain. (This climb always began at six thousand feet, where our RV was parked.) It's a dramatic view in any season, but fall sets sumac and oak ablaze with golden color that dances with the deep reds of the sunburned rock that makes up much of the mountain we called "home" for so long.

The mountain holds a wealth of never-ending stories. Every crack in those sunbaked rocks shelters something: a tenacious wildflower, a shade-seeking lizard, the lingering fragrance of an afternoon shower. Fossils. Geodes. Minerals.

I painted this in three forms of watercolor: transparent paints, opaque ("gouache") paints and watercolor pencils, wet and dry. All the while, I remained cognizant of preserving the heat so those golds and reds glow as fiercely as the sun on volcanic rock. I applied a few coats of archival varnish to keep the colors as bold and dynamic as the landscape itself. You can literally reach out and touch that rock -- it won't hurt the painting, which you can safely enjoy without the need for sealing it under glass.

If you’re looking for a piece of the Davis Mountains to bring into your space—something that radiates warmth, resilience, and a hefty dose of wild Texas spirit—this miniature is it.

Hang it somewhere you need a reminder that the view is worth the climb.

Why are the Davis Mountains are so unique for West Texas? They are what geologists call a “sky island” -- a straggling collection of rugged peaks rising abruptly from the surrounding desert, an oasis abundant with life, all floating in a dry sea of flat, sunbaked land. Because of their isolation, the Davis Mountains harbor plants, animals and rock formations you won’t find anywhere else in Texas.  They have a fiery origin though-- these striking palisades were spawned by ancient eruptions some 35 million years ago. Rivers of molten rock literally poured across the land, cooling into the dramatic red cliffs that define the Davis Mountains. Today, the volcanic rocks hold the heat of the sun, along with autumn golds and reds and oranges and the wild, resilient spirit of the last frontier.

original 5" x 5" varnished watercolor (tube watercolor, artist's gouache, watercolor pencils) 
protectively sealed under several coats of archival acrylic varnish
on archival Aquabord 
framed in sustainable wood to outer dimensions of 10" x 10" (be sure to scroll through the photos)
backed in a non-reactive paper dustcover
wired and ready to hang, but also suitable for display on a table easel or propped on a shelf
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