Author: Anna Cull

Clouds

final painting of low clouds over bushy green hills, blue mountains in the distance and three power poles on the left in the foreground, presented in the context of a line-drawn living room to give an idea of the size
| Anna Cull
‘A Conversation with Clouds’ acrylic on canvas, 305 x 610 mm, 2024. SOLD

Whispers of low cloud
Come and go with the sunrise:
A perfect morning.

  • Photo reference
  • WIP 1
  • WIP 2
  • WIP 3
  • Final
‘A Conversation with Clouds’ detail
‘A Conversation with Clouds’ detail

I am saving this one for June’s exhibition ~ it looks so much better in person than in the photos. I will post details of the exhibition a little closer to the time.

Out of Left Field

final semi-abstract painting of four eucalyptus trees, cropped in the foreground, with seven tiny sheep dots grazing in front of a pale turquoise wooden farmhouse on the distant left
| Anna Cull
‘Out of Left Field (Four Trees)’ acrylic on canvas, 305 x 405 mm, 2024. Available.
  • the photo reference that inspired the painting, a typical New Zealand farm landscape
    Photo reference
  • work in progress charcoal sketch on canvas
    WIP 1
  • work in progress tonal underpainting in greys, white and touches of yellow ochre
    WIP 2
  • work in progress adding colour to the landscape
    WIP 3
  • final painting of four eucalyptus trees, cropped in the foreground, a pale turquoise wooden farmhouse on the distant left and seven tiny sheep dots
    Final

Here is another South Island summer landscape and my first painting of 2024. It features four magnificent eucalyptus trees, a charming wooden farmhouse and seven teeny tiny sheep dots.

This painting is also destined for the exhibition in June. More info about that a little later.

Balancing Act

final painting of a power pylon in a summer landscape with small white clouds and pale purple mountains in the distance
| Anna Cull
‘Balancing Act (Little Fluffy Clouds)’ acrylic on canvas, 305 x 405 mm, 2023. Available.

When the world gets busy, sometimes something has to give. In my case, it has been keeping my blog updated. Sorry about that. I am in the middle of preparing for an exhibition in June and that means that I have been painting painting painting and not much else. As a result, I seem to have misplaced January.

  • Photo reference
  • WIP 1
  • WIP 2
  • WIP 3
  • final painting of a power pylon in a summer landscape with small white clouds and pale purple mountains in the distance
    Final

‘Balancing Act (Little Fluffy Clouds)’ was actually my last painting of 2023. It celebrates the Southern Alps in high summer with clouds replacing snow on the mountains, a power pylon and, yep, even more little fluffy clouds. It won’t be available to purchase until exhibition time but I’ll tell you more about that a little closer to the time : )

Snowclouds

final two paintings side by side shown in the context of a line-drawn living room to give an idea of the size
| Anna Cull

Heavier than air
Clouds as white as falling snow
Cover the mountains.

‘Snowclouds I’ acrylic on canvas, 305 x 305 mm, 2023. Available.
‘Snowclouds II’ acrylic on canvas, 305 x 305 mm, 2023. Available.

No, it’s not snowing in New Zealand in summer (although I seem to recall that it did once ~ a long, long time ago ~ on Christmas Day❄️). I just felt like painting snow.

“Apparently there is nothing that cannot happen.”

Mark Twain

Getting There By Being Here

the final version of the acrylic painting with the final colours: yellow and orange clouds against a mid blue sky, dark green trees in silhouette above mid green and yellow grass, and a grey and white road in the lower right corner
| Anna Cull
‘Getting There By Being Here’ acrylic on canvas, 405 x 510 mm, 2023. SOLD
  • Photo reference
  • WIP 1
  • WIP 2
  • Final

Many of my paintings start out as quickly snapped photographs taken through a car windscreen while driving somewhere (not while I’m driving ~ that would be silly ~ but when I’m a passenger, amusing myself on road trips). This one was taken somewhere between Amberley and Christchurch, late summer, 2021. It wasn’t the best photo I took of the amazing sky that followed us home that night but I liked the line of light through the trees on the horizon. The six little road markers very nearly didn’t make it into the painting ~ and now I can’t imagine it without them.

No haiku today. I think a sky on fire is poetry enough.