|Piracantha Ttriptych, 3 5" X 7" panels, 2010, oil, inquire here for print.|
Just trying different things, and having fun with the whole process. These are friends of mine, and keep me company here in the cave. Peaceful little pieces.
My problem with plain-air painting, now that I'm thinking about it, started with the time I decided to sally forth and try to paint something other than my back yard. So there I am riding around in the country looking for a neat spot. Aha, found it--babbling brook across a broad meadow--a couple houses in the distance-- bank of trees--nice light--idyllic scene. As I'm pulling the easel out of the old station wagon, up comes a pick-up, and stops right in front of me. This old lady gets out with a walkie-talkie in one hand and a six shooter in the other. Then she let a few choice words fly ending with, "What the hell you think you're doin?"
I tried to explain how, um, I was an artist and I was thinking about painting this beautiful scene, and duh..."I don't care who you think you are, but in one minute I start shootin!" At this point my heart was in my throat pounding, as I shoved my shit back in the car and left her in the rear view mirror with her apron tied around her with a leather strap and holster. Amazing how quickly the idyllic scene turned lets say, maybe a bit stressful.
Drove around for a few hours, trying to figure out ways to get even--adding whole new dimensions to the art of plain-air painting. My soul was taking gas. By the time I came to my senses, I had realized, that art was a higher, more spiritual pursuit, that perhaps it probably shouldn't include vengeance for one thing--and more importantly, it shouldn't involve looking down the barrel of a gun held by an old lady with a twitchy finger. What an episode. Never tried that again.
Stealth drawing and memory--that's for me--stay safe out there!