Pleinly Speaking

Today was the annual Raleigh Plein Air Paint-Out, sponsored by Local Color Gallery and Jerry's Artarama. According to the Call for Artists, Jerry's was going to open an hour early today and hand out free canvases. I needed supplies, and so stopped by there on Wednesday night after my Hair Club appointment—too late. Oh well, I can go there early today, right? We just need to check into the event by 10 AM.

So I called Jerry's Thursday to confirm that they were open early. "No, ma'am," they assured me, and even asked other workers. Nope.

Wokay. Thus I embarked on a panicked search of studio, storage room, and any kind of art storage I could find in the house—and there are quite a few of those places. (Someday I'll get the house remodeled to accommodate my needs. Or I'll move.) Ta dah! Found some blank canvases. One was linen, not quite the thing for plein air, but at least it was larger than the other quite small canvases. And smaller than the other quite large canvases. When you're outside painting your brains out, you want a medium-sized canvas and you don't need expensive linen, which allows for fine detail.

Lo and behold, there was a frame of the same size, still in its plastic wrap. (Okay, not quite the same size. When I slipped the finished canvas in, the frame was the tiniest bit too large, or perhaps the canvas was the tiniest bit too small [Jerry's canvases seem to run small], but I got it wedged in enough that I don't think it's going anywhere.)

It's been about a year since I last did plein air. In fact, it was during the theater release of The Avengers, because I celebrated completing a plein air workshop by seeing it. I'd planned on really getting out last year and keeping up the habit, but I didn't. Now with this contest I am making a pledge to get out more. Practice makes perfect, and I hope that travel during my retirement will be partially financed by being able to paint as I go.

Last night I gathered equipment. Acrylic or oil? I decided on oils, which allow you to moosh around a bit with things instead of having a mistake dry before you can fix it. I use alkyd oils, which dry thoroughly in 24 hours. (Okay, if you really layer it thickly, it takes longer.) I cannibalized the Gamsol in my studio container because I didn't have any more. (see: "Jerry's was closed," above) The rest I began to reach for and throw into the pile. About 9 PM I loaded it all in the car and hit the sack. After I put my bedtime book down and turned off the light, I had to switch it on again so I could run around and collect four more things I'd forgotten.

Hopefully in the future I'll pay more attention to my lists and go by them.

So: up this morning an hour after I usually rise, and it was off to Raleigh! There was an actual parking space across from the gallery!!!! Signed in, made use of their Facilities, and drove off to find a suitable subject within the area we were confined to. I'd previously thought I'd paint the forested grounds of a school, but that was just off St. Mary's and not Boylan Ave., which was our limit. On the hunt again, I spotted a delicious stone church and parsonage. I parked on the street (the parking lot across the street from the church had 24/7 towing signage, and I watch a lot of Parking Wars) and set up.

The real parsonage, with proper shadows.

I'd determined that this year, by gosh and by golly, I was going to enjoy the painting instead of being in a deep, dark hysteria over getting things Just Right and Done On Time. I'd prepared by looking over some plein air magazines that reiterated the importance of value, value, value. And temperature. And edges. And...

No pressure. I didn't even make as detailed (hah!) a preliminary drawing as I usually do, trying to figure out things. At least I remembered to take a picture of the scene when I started. I figure that when I get my painting back I can compare and repaint, if needed. (I'm still working on the one from last year.) (It's going to be good, dammit.)

The church was doing a booming business for a Saturday, and I got an occasional stray from whatever they were doing over there. Someone mentioned that music lessons were available in what was the ex-parsonage. These were mostly kids accompanied by their mothers, and two mothers brought their sons by to inspect my work. The boys were both interested in art, so I showed them what I was doing and tried to explain what "value" was to the younger guy, and encourage the older one, who looked about high school age, to join us next year. "Imagine, you meeting a real artist!" the mother of the young one gushed.

Gee!

A car rolled up into the tow parking lot I had set up in, to join the other car that was there. A man got out of car and strolled over. "Whatcha doing?" he asked.

I explained, and he said he wasn't the owner of the building, but it was okay for me to be set up there. I assured him that absolutely no mess would remain. Later, an artist and her hubby parked in the lot and came over to ask about towing. I explained that they should consider being cautious, so they moved to the side of the street a couple cars behind mine. We all made Parking Wars jokes.

Well, the sun climbed in the sky and all those dramatic shadows against the stonework drifted to the ground. I kept having to shift shop to my right, to my right, and to my right again so the canvas and me were in shadow. (How I WISH I could find a good plein air umbrella that actually attaches to something and stays in place!) By the first move I had the basics of the painting on canvas, so I was just checking for color and such, and could bear having my viewpoint changed.

It's not a bad little painting. I kept telling myself to simplify, and I did. Very proud! I left the leaves on the big tree until the last—they were in front of the rest of the composition—and then dabbed them in.

Ugh! OMG! How do I redo this? I cursed and cursed, then closed my eyes and took a breath. Do not panic.

Opened my eyes again. Oh gee, it looks like Cézanne on a messy day.

Yeah, Cézanne. My leaves look like Cézanne's, if you haven't seen a Cézanne painting in a while. I painted some more, liking the effect more as I went. I even went back and put in some blocky tree limbs because, hey, this was a real painted painting, not something produced in Photoshop, and it should look like a human hand was behind it.

Not bad.

Got the frame on and the car loaded up and decided that I needed to get in some exercise for the day. I'd walk the painting up to the gallery; it was just a couple blocks. Whoops—It was a lot farther than that, and uphill. In addition I had to pass blocks and blocks of restaurants and cafes serving lunch and exuding tasty smells. I almost swooned from pleasure in front of the Thai place. Can't have soy or peanuts for another couple weeks, darn it!

Handed the painting in, called it "The Parsonage," and tried to take a picture for my files, just in case it actually sells during the month it'll be on display at Local Color. My cheap purse camera gave me a "disc full" message, and I couldn't get to anything to delete a picture. Not even one. #@!! Sure, I could have walked back to the car and gotten my fancy camera out of the equipment bag, but then I'd have to walk all the way back, since there were now zero empty parking spots on Glenwood.

So I don't have a picture to show you. When I get the painting back, I'll try to remember to post it here.

All the walking made my left knee hurt. It hasn't bothered me in AGES. It's not bothering me now, but began bothering me for a bit just before I got back to the car. Uh oh. I have a vacation planned for Washington, DC, Colonial Williamsburg, and Historic Jamestowne next month. Looks like I'll have to get deadly serious about getting in condition for it.

Plein Air — Plein Pooped!

Whew! All done, and I want to put my feet up and not think about anything until tomorrow. At least!

Every year Local Color Gallery in Raleigh has a Plein Air Paint Out. They give us a map of where we're supposed to paint, and we show up. You have to get your canvases stamped at the beginning of the day so they know you didn't cheat, and then you have to report back with finished painting framed and ready to hang. The paintings go in a show for a month at the gallery, and selected ones go to another show later.

It gets people out n about. Folks will stroll up and ask why everyone's out painting? Usually the weather's great, except for that one year when a bunch of us were painting along Glenwood Avenue and the wind was howling down the street like we were in a wind tunnel. I kept having to run after the woman beside me's canvas to catch it while she was off getting lunch.

Early forecasts had said rain, but by Friday night they said partly cloudy, no chance of precip. So this morning I checked just in case to see if Local Color had instructed folks as to a rain day, but there was no negative word from them. I went out back to see if I truly had murdered one of my grape vines the other day. Hooray! It was coming back to life! The sky was gorgeously blue; the air was still. I crammed half my studio into the car and took off.

This was my first real plein air painting foray with acrylics, so I wasn't quite sure if I'd brought everything I needed. It'd be a heck of a thing if I set up and discovered that, say, I'd forgotten a tube of white paint!

As I drove into Raleigh, a bank of black clouds followed me. Uh oh.

I checked in and then started driving around. We'd painted Brooklyn a few years before and (1) I'd hated the painting I'd done then, and (2) I wanted to get away from that block. It had nothing to do with me having lived there for a while about 25 years previously. Today I wanted to do a landscape with no buildings, and I'd been overjoyed to discover that at the last minute the gallery had decided we could paint in Fred Fletcher Park. I'd never been there. (When I lived in the area, it was private property belonging to a children's home.)

So I drove around, then got out and walked some very pretty pathways. There was a GINORMOUS pink azalea that was screaming to be painted, but it was next to garbage cans and little else. I spotted two other painters already going to town on their paintings, and then saw what I thought was a sweet, inviting little scene.

I set up, did my value sketch—this would be my primary focus, along with shapes—and started in. My one and only set of visitors arrived then, just as I was scumbling in some color on the primary tree, with nothing else on the canvas. They said something polite and left.

The morning wore on. The sky clouded up then cleared. Clouded up and cleared. The wind came off and on as well. I got through the "this painting is awful!" phase, went directly into the "this painting is shit!" phase, and eventually got to "this painting is completely unsalvageable!"

One of the event's people came around to take pictures. Then a few minutes later another came through, checking on folks' locations. She assured me that they had a squad of high schoolers who would guard our stuff so we could take a bathroom break. They'd be by in a few minutes. I asked her what time it was. She said about 11:30, and we noticed that one painter across from me had left. He'd had some job he had to go to in the afternoon. I felt sorry that he could only put in two hours' time to the event. (Check in started at 9 AM.)

So I painted. And painted. And painted some more. Finally it seemed to me that the painting was getting done, in that everything had a couple good solid coats of paint on it, and that's what's important, right? I stood back to take a gander.

It began to sprinkle. It stopped. It started. It stopped. It started...

I refused to acknowledge it. "Say, that's not bad," I told myself about the painting. I came back and did some extreme value adjustments that normally would have had me shrieking, but the overall effect wasn't all that terrible. Good enough. I'd probably be in need of a bathroom soon (the ultimate "the painting is done" signal), so I reached for my liner brush to sign my name.

No liner brush. I had to scrawl a reasonable facsimile of my name in the corner with a quarter-inch brush, packed up, and left.

Just wait until I get this painting back. One or two hours in my studio and it will look fabulous. It's got good bones.

It only took about forty minutes (or so it seemed) cruising to find a parking spot to deliver the painting. I parked in an illegal space in the gallery's lot because there wasn't any place else. Went inside, wrenched the metal tabs out of the frame I'd brought, plunked the painting in, grabbed my point driver—WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM—and handed the painting in.

This was the first time handling the Paint Out for the two ladies/girls at the desk. "Should we be getting prices?" they asked each other.

"Two hundred dollars," I told them. I'd done the math in my head on the way over and didn't increase anything because the gallery's going to take a 30% cut from any sales. Your price is your price, as all the ad marketing people say. The girls knew enough to get the location of the picture, but didn't take down the picture's title. Good thing, because it doesn't have one yet.

I strolled into the back to see what other paintings had been handed in. There I saw the same building as I'd caught, but from a more distant view. It had to have been from the guy who left early.

The painting was jaw-droppingly spectacular.

He did that in just 2 hours? Holy moley! I should have checked it to see if Barry Allen had signed the work. (Make that Wally West for you youngsters.)

The other four that had been turned in were gorgeous as well. I strove to recall the words of the Desiderata: "If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself." Okay, I can dig it. Some day I'll have as much experience as those folks have. Maybe I'll be as good as they are. Who knows, maybe my style will be the same as theirs, and maybe it will have taken off in a completely different direction. Whatever. The more boats in the harbor, and all that.

As I was leaving, one of the high school students was just beginning his rounds to see if anyone out there needed a bathroom break. At that point we were 4 1/2 hours into the event.

The only thing left was to grab some food on the way home, unpack when I got there, and put my feet up!

Next year I shall strive to enjoy the painting process as well as the beauty of my subject, instead of so fiercely concentrating on (1) finishing, (2) being able to recognize what I was painting, and (3) value.

Phew! Vacation's almost over!

No, really, I am planning on taking a real, relax-and-don't-think-about-work vacation later in the year. Maybe.

But this week's been busy, busy, busy, to the point where the guys working fixing up the house next door must be wondering why I'm wandering around my yard like Frankenstein, groaning and moaning. I'm sore! But the yard's looking three million times better than it did, though it's still got a loooong way to go.

Took the new cordless electric mower out for its first run this morning. The noise level is about half that of my dishwasher, but then again my dishwasher is pretty noisy. The mower's heavy as heck, which makes lugging it up and down the house steps (it must be on constant charge during the growing season) (guess I'll be buying that shed a year early so I can keep it there and run an extension cord from it to my outside outlet), but otherwise seems quite nice. Glad I bought it. It makes me feel superior.

While I was buying edging at the home improvement center (Home Depot's cost $3 less than Lowe's for 20 feet), I also took away a mountain of 2/99¢ daffodils, which may be on their last legs right now but will look spectacular next year. Got them all planted, along with the 99¢ hyacinths. Don't have the day lilies planted yet (Tuesday) and the hydrangeas haven't arrived yet (but I have their locations marked), but we're on our way.

Was able to pay some attention to ye kitties as well, though they do like to sleep.

Sometimes Obi gets a little tired of Bran bothering him. Bran's got a lot more energy than Obi (he's two years younger), but Obi has his subtle ways...


Got a lot of work done on ye wip, contacted Cerridwen YET AGAIN asking what kind of PR they're doing (no answer yet) (they have the worst email! I always have to send multiple times to them! How odd, considering that they're e-pubs). Sent "Star-Crossed" to them and it only took two tries before they said they got it. Will hear back within 4 months about if they want it or not. Don't really feel like complaining because THEY SENT ME A COPY OF MY BOOK!! Of course it was .pdf format and such -- they sent about five different versions -- but there it is! It's real! It's real! (And it comes out for the rest of you on the 7th.) I was so excited I ordered a Kindle so I could take it to work and show everyone.

And if that wasn't enough excitement, the week ended... Well, if you don't count today... with the annual Raleigh Plein Air Paint Out. I'd scouted the area we were painting six weeks ago but when I showed up Saturday morning the light was all wrong, so I cruised and cruised and painters were camped out at the more interesting spots (Boylan Heights is full of Victorian houses, which I think are interesting), but I finally found a couple of houses that seemed like they'd make a good composition.



Didn't catch exactly the composition I wanted, but I figured: good enough. Funny thing: the white house is some kind of Christian fellowship something, and the first guy who came out of it to look around at the morning, let out a great curse involving God. How appropriate!

Anyway, I painted as fast as I could. Panic sets in quickly with plein air, and it's not just because the light changes so much every ten minutes. This was my first time painting outside with acrylics, which wanted to dry out as soon as I gooshed them out of their tubes, and instead of my usual 8x10 canvas, I tried a 16 x 20 with finished sides. Made the mistake of NOT bringing my "good" white, the one that's opaque. Instead I'd brought a bottle of Gesso, the cheap alternative. My opaque whites are all in gigantor jars, and I didn't want to lug them around. I had to fake it by doing layer after layer of transparent white until it started covering up stuff like it was supposed to.

I worked on the left side of the painting -- probably because guys kept going in and out of the white house and I didn't want them to think I was staring or anything, especially since they were doing their best to ignore me -- for far too long. Finally I got to the right side and one of the many folks, artists and residents, who kept strolling up to check my progress informed me that it was 2:00. I'd started at 9:30. I was hungry. I figured one more hour's work after lunch would finish the painting and so packed up (you do NOT leave your stuff laying around for people to take!) and took off to find the tavern that Local Color Gallery had recommended us all to eat at. There were supposedly other artists set up there finishing their paintings as well.

No parking. None. Every place was filled. The tavern patio had zero shade. I didn't feel like getting sunburn on my eyeballs.

So I found a grill with fair hamburgers (Weight Watchers was off for the day!) and excellent fries, as well as a gigantic, lovely iced tea (I'm very particular about my ice tea) that kept me awake until midnight, and then went back to the neighborhood to try to find a shady piece of sidewalk that wasn't taken by an artist or in an artist's sight lines to finish.


Meh. I'd even had a nightmare the previous night about this event and had finally decided that I wouldn't approach this as (a) a competition and (b) some kind of punishment that I inflict upon myself to make myself miserable. Instead I'd (a) appreciate the gorgeous day, lovely weather, hardly any wind, beautiful neighborhood, and (b) celebrate the joy of painting. Okay, so I got a little angsty in there, but all in all, well... I learned a bit more in completing this painting. People who came up to talk were very nice. Who knows? Someone might actually want to buy it while it hangs in a gallery for the next month (maybe plus, if it's chosen to be in an extended exhibit somewhere else in Raleigh, I forget). If not, I can fix this thing so it'll look good.

That bush/tree in the foreground -- it was a really peculiar color, or rather, combination of colors, but I NAILED that sucker. Until the value pattern didn't look right. Which it tends to do as the light completely changes as the day goes by. So I'm anxious to correct that, as well as the red and spring-green growth on the background line of bushes. And of course there's all the architectural details that need to be straightened up. (One of the other artists who was working near my car chose to paint a flat orange wall with some vines growing on it. When she came down to my area to check my stuff out, she said, "Architecture. Man, you're brave!")

As I was packing everything up to return to the gallery and turn my entry in, I discovered a section of side that hadn't been painted. Whoops! So I still had some white left that was wet, some red, and even a teeny tiny dab of yellow. I stuck my thumb in them all, mooshed them together, thought, "good enough," and filled in the area without dirtying a brush. Whew!

So: busy week. Sore back and ankles. Mountain of mulch in drive. Book in progress: in progress in a new program and better organized than it was. Book at publisher: definitely coming out. Didn't get through that Netflix movie that I've had for six weeks, but did discover that it was defective and so have asked for a replacement. Read some excellent books and one yuck one. Cats okay.

All is well.