Not much can match the experience of painting outdoors in the spring if you're an artist. There is one caveat. Painting outdoors is more difficult than it seems because you're tempted to try to paint every leaf, every twig, and every blade of grass. That's where you quickly learn that the best you can do is try to capture an illusion of what you're seeing and feeling. That's where you learn that green isn't just green. You are guaranteed to use up lots of art supplies without anything to show for it at first. Many artists give up. Those who persevere will see color in a different way for the rest of their lives.
Last Friday dawned clear and beautiful. The pine pollen had subsided (somewhat), mosquitoes, gnats, and chiggers hadn't hatched, and the birds were singing their hearts out. It was a day made for painting outdoors – especially after braving the elements the week before and painting in dull, gray, cloudy, gloomy, light.
Given the choice, most of the Southern Colours artists chose to visit the same location where three of us painted the prior week. There we were, spread out along the pond and the trail with all of our supplies, determined to capture the glorious light of a perfect spring day. This week, I chose to paint the head of the muddy little creek that flows into the pond.
The painting you see above isn't finished. I was working with oil paints and the surface got too wet to go further. But look at the illusion of light compared to last week's painting.
What a difference a day makes!
P.S. After getting it home, I realized that I can turn this painting upside down and still have a painting, depending upon how I choose to finish it. I probably won't do that but I could. Is that exciting or what?
