So, the Smithfield Plein Air thing was cool. Not very organized. Basically I went into the arts center, told them I was going to paint, and then wandered outside to find a good spot. They gave me directions to the Windsor Castle Park, which were apparently driving directions, because I made the first turn and the sidewalk disappeared. Being undeterred, as I am a lone wolf who eats danger for breakfast, I kept walking on the side of the road and stumbled upon this picturesque spot:
Gorgeous, really. And I never would have even seen it if I had been driving by. I hopped over whatever you call that metal fence thing on the side of the road and plopped my folding chain right down into nature. It was really nice, seeing the leaves sparkle and the light change. Every once in awhile a nut would fall out of a tree or something would scamper through a bush. You know - nature stuff.
The "palette" I used was an old plastic plate that still had some dried watercolors stuck to it from the last time I'd been painting. I actually used those watercolors to make this piece (plus some yellow acrylic):
The turtle was a late addition. He popped his head out as I was waiting for the paint to dry, and I had to put him in. Then I shoved my supplies back into my Wal-Mart shopping bag, slung the folded chair over my shoulder, and went down the road again.
For a mile. In the sun. By the way, you know you're in the country when your directions say "continue until the road comes to a dead end." But I was determined to press forward. Plus, I had my Gatorade and my plucky obliviousness to my own ridiculous appearance, as I walked down a country road wearing a jacket hung with framed art and a fedora. The fedora turned out to be the best accessory of the day, as it kept the sun off me until I could find a patch of shade to hide in, like the shadow of a tree where I painted someone's backyard:
And their disused shed. There was a horse by the shed originally. A horse which immediately moseyed elsewhere once I got myself set up. But I did get this piece done, and I had a nice conversation with a woman who was out for a walk. The only thing friendlier to me than that woman was the spider I found on my lap not once, not twice, but three times as I was painting here. I gingerly picked up my shirt and blew him off each time, suppressing my childhood response of jerking back, seizure-like, while uncontrollably flailing my arms and yelping "Gah!" and/or "Mother******!"
But I definately got the hint the third time and finished the painting standing up before quickly moving on.
This piece was painted on the Windsor Castle Park trail, which was pretty. This is the most abstract piece I did, but if you want to find the spot yourself, it's the picturesque place right across from the Port-o-Potty. I'm sorry, I meant "Restroom Facilities." That's what it says on the brochure.
After winding through the park, I decided to head towards my car so I could go home and walk my sister's dog. Yes, my sister's dog - I call him that because she is the one who begged my parents for a solid year to get a dog. And she is the one who made Obama-like promises that she would walk the dog and feed the dog and teach it to read Braille all by herself. So as I was saying, I was planning to go home and walk my sister's dog while she was at work, not walking him, when I realized that it was noon and I was wearing a jacket and a black hat.
I found the first shade I could - luckily there was a big tree in front of Windsor Castle:
...otherwise, you'd be seeing a drawing of a laundromat, or an empty sidewalk. My mom quite liked this drawing.
And then I came back, and saw Mallory. Well actually, her mom saw me as I was staring off into space. I mean, contemplating artistic things.
It's kind of funny - I always find it amusing when I read art history books that glamorize the social lives of artists. Oh, what pivotal shifts of artistic thought occurred while Jackson Pollock and de Kooning debated art theory at that bar they used to go to. Really? A bunch of artists hanging out at a bar is a "turning point" in art?
Me and Mallory have hung out at a couple of shows. Are we an alliance? Have we had a "dramatic influence" on each other's work?
Tell you what - we both do digital stuff. We're both interested in pop or "low" culture. I declare that we are part of the burgeoning "LO FI" movement! Can we get half a sentence in an art history book now? Don't make me write a manifesto. When else am I going to use that crap I learned in Art Crit?
But yeah, the Plein Air thing was really good. I am completely satisfied with how it turned out.
And that satisfaction is in no way dampened by the fact that I woke up the next day with roughly a bazillion chigger bites. Which is apparently (obviously) what happens to you when you go tromping through the woods all day, setting down your folding chair wherever you darn well please. I'd show you a picture, but the internet already has enough images of mysterious rashes. It's not that bad, anyway... it's just another reminder that every time I commune with nature,
Nature tries to kill me.
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