Stormy Weather

One of my all-time favourite jazz songs is Stormy Weather, a song written in 1933 and originally performed by Ethel Waters and since re-recorded by countless artists because it is just that good a song. While I love Billie Holiday's version, I have to say that my absolute favourite version of this song is by Martha Wainwright. So so so good. It's humid here. The clouds have rolled in and the wind has picked up. The weather forecast is calling for thunderstorms tonight and it certainly feels like one should start any moment now. That's the crazy thing about prairie thunderstorms though: sometimes it can seem like a storm is brewing and then...nothing, it just stays humid and tense. The air becomes stagnant and it feels like you are disturbing something by just moving or breathing. It's the craziest sensation. And it is different than other places that get a lot of thunderstorms. They get humid. Legitimately humid. The air feels so dense you could cut it with a knife. You practically have to know how to swim to get anywhere. We don't get that here. Paradoxically it is both humid and dry at the same time. It is so bizarre. I adore this weather though. I've loved thunderstorms as long as I can remember. Maybe I was scared of them as a kid, but I don't remember it. (I should ask my parents about that...) There is something about their wildness, craziness and destructiveness that appeals to me.

Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky in the morning, sailor's take warning.

sublime Adjective describing a concept, thing, or state of high spiritual, moral, or intellectual value; or something awe-inspiring. The sublime was a goal to which many nineteenth-century artists aspired in their artworks. (Stokstad Art History)

I have mixed feelings about storms. For the most part I love them. There is something fascinating about them. I think it's the attraction of the sublime. Storms make you feel how little control you have over nature, they make you realize how tiny and insignificant you are in comparison with the rest of the world. There is something awe inspiring about that realization. And in a way I find that comforting. I can't control everything, and as much as I hate that, it is good to know that it's normal and that no one else can control everything either. We are all on equal footing when it comes to that. However, there is still something about storms that terrrifies me. I think it is just the knowledge of their destructive power. Being confronted with something that you know could kill you...I think fear is a healthy response to that. The sublime fascinates me though. It is so prevalent in art and literature. In particular, Canadian artists are fascinated with the sublimity of nature. The fact that we are completely at the mercy of an unforgiving climate has captivated this country's artists and writers since the first explorers arrived here. Our complicated relationship with nature is part of what defines us as Canadians. Margaret Atwood talks about the bush myth and how Canadians live in fear of nature so we group together and build cities, walls to keep nature out. And yet we are also people who go camping and backpacking. Extreme survival skills are something Canadians pride themselves on. Even those of us who live in cities brag about how we have lived through winters of -40C. I have friends who love winter camping, and part of the thrill is the survival aspect. We both fear and revere nature. We hide inside our houses and we attempt to convey the wildness of nature in art. I know this is true in my life and it is a pattern that is seen again and again in various forms of Canadian art. 

It is that point in the Alberta summer where the thunderstorms roll in, the severe storm watches are issued and tonadoes touch down. There was a storm tonight (lots of wind, but short lived) and it ended just as the sun was setting. I love when that happens because crazy weather creates awesome sunsets. Tonight was certainly no exception. Here's a peak at the reddish sky with the trees out back of the house silhouetted against it. So pretty.

The Gathering Storm

I don't live in southern Alberta, so I am not currently experiencing endless rain and intense flooding. I hope that those of you who do live in southern Alberta are managing to stay dry. However, it has been hot and humid (for Alberta anyway) and so the occasional thunderstorm has been rolling in. I love thunderstorms. There is just something truly wonderful about them. Maybe it's because they could be a metaphor for me as a person. Things just build and build and eventually explode in this spectacular fashion. Sometimes the outcome is good and sometimes it is disasterous. I feel like that is the point I'm at right now, the gathering of the storm. For the most part things are okay, and yet there is just something about certain moments that has been putting me on edge. It's weird and I'm not entirely sure how to explain it. So I am going to stop trying and move on to discussing the photo. I took this a couple summers ago when an actual storm was starting to brew on the horizon. Clouds fascinate me. I think it is because of how they affect light in such amazing ways. The build up of clouds, the promise of a storm...something is about to happen, I just wish I knew what it was.