Leonardo Da Vinci taught his students to draw what they perceived in the clouds. A bank of white and gray cumulus shapes created what artists called, a random field of three-dimensional forms, ripe for people to fantasize: a scary troll, a laughing peasant woman, a fat Buddha.
When I gazed at clouds this morning, I saw funny faces. In my studio, I kept a sketchbook filled with abstract doodles, done without looking, while talking on the phone. When I contemplated these two-dimensional ink lines on a page, I realized that they acted as a random field. I applied Da Vinci’s lessons and drew the images I perceived.
One day, staring at my doodles, I saw a fox’s head. I’ve seen foxes in the wild, a silver and light brown one in the southern Nevada desert and red ones in Denver on a college campus. Their quickness and beauty thrilled me. At the University of Denver, I followed a one for a half hour around campus; it didn’t seem to mind, apparently used to students. I drew the fox, but I couldn’t capture the essence of the exquisite creature.
My doodled fox looked down from a cloud onto a tree that was orange and red with autumn colors, in a season of change. I refined my drawing, emphasizing the shapes in the animal’s face with light and shadow and highlighting its sharp black eyes and nose. As I worked, I became excited because I had a chance to do this superb animal justice. When I finished, although I liked the liveliness of the face I drew, its vitality didn’t compare to the astounding vivacity of a real fox.
In my drawing, the fox was positioned in a cloud as if observing the earth. It seemed to be superior, like a god. I could understand why the Japanese “kitsune” – fox – protects and supports the Shinto goddess of plentiful harvests and fertility, Inari.
Although my lively drawing will never come close to nature’s perfection of a living fox, I loved my effort because I captured something essential. By placing the fox in a cloud, I portrayed a spiritual quality. It seemed to be a guardian spirit to the tree below which faced a big transition with the coming loss of its leaves and the deep freeze of winter, a symbol for people facing hardships. For me, this drawing resonated with the human reality of constant change and the desire for closeness to nature and spirit.
The Walter Wickiser Gallery is featuring Kaethe Kauffman’s new drawings at a group exhibit at the Palm Beach Art Fair, March 19-22, 2026. MORE INFO
