Cumulonimbus - #05723-2 Painting

In the Gap Between Visibles and Invisibles As far as I remember, it was a scene from a satellite TV program about Polar regions. What captured my eye was a landscape with a rather small iceberg that continued to drip its water. The season was spring and the iceberg was melting down to its thousands of tiny little droplets. The iceberg was never gigantic, nor was it pouring down an immense quantity of water. I could see just a small lump of iceberg that was drizzling with a regular cycle of speed, as if it would prove that there had been constant forces pulling down from the bottom of the earth. Compared to the rushing of huge waterfalls, the motion of the icebergs flowing water was rather feeble, but its irresistible force was there. With the spectacular sighting of a massive, mammoth-sized iceberg, seizing its essence could have been more difficult. Someone could say that it's ironic to realize this overwhelming and well known truth anew, whereas a little child knows this feeling instantly. I realized this truth actually covers all over the earth. I later named this experience, "The Power Behind the Veil." What kind of earthly power makes this solid, sustaining down fall possible all year round and for millions of years? An artist is not in a position to answer such questions, nor is he responsible for it. It's obvious that such questioning, to myself, set the momentous turning point of my last 3 years of painting. However, working after the turning point was not easy. I always tried to catch the "invisibles" because I hadn't been touched by the spendid "visibles." Even splashing water showers didn't offer any assistance, nor inspirations. I murmered to myself, the Truth is all around me. The matter is that I can't see it. The overwhelming power, of nature, slowly spreads my attentiveness into other natural phenomena, such as precipitation and cumulonimbus. I like rain, but I don’t feel compelled to paint the moody lanscapes of a rainy day. Instead, my eyes are turned towards the sky and to the gathering water vapors. It is here that the air capacity, holding the water vapors, decreases to the point of saturation. My painting series, “Precipitation”, indicates the status just before the water vapors turn into falling rains. I guess I should call it the ‘symbol’ of the perfect “Providence” in Nature. "Cumulonimbus", is another series of paintings that ends with the term “Providence”. As a child, when I looked up in the sky there used to be a sequence of running castles, horses and sometimes the shapes of frightening demons with white cotton candy looking clouds. Later I realized that they were millions of water droplets scattering the sun light. They weren't the spinning merry-go-round decorations of the castle and princess anymore. They had now become the accumulations of full saturation, releasing to the burst of down pouring energy. That is what I might read from Nature these days. To gain access to that power, I stand as closely to the canvas as I can, so close to count the plies in the cloth or sometimes move far back from the scene. I’m painting the invisibles; whether you could find the shapes of clouds from my pictures or not. Oct. 2005, Yoon Joo One of the series of Painting "Precipitation" done in 2005 on canvas with oil and etching ink. This work will be shipped without stretcher bars, rolled in cardboard box with extra careful packaging.