Getting Out There to Paint

With the weather so freakishly pleasant, I decided I could not spend the afternoon in my upstairs studio.  My in-shape husband was out riding his bicycle, and I wanted to get some natural vitamin D for myself, so I gathered up my small watercolor sketchbook, traveling palette, brushes, portable chair and plastic bucket and drove a few miles outside of town to paint a bit.

I am not always a happy plein air painter, and one reason is the difficulties I often have with wind and sunshine that blow my papers around and dry my paint quick as a wink.  So today I decided that I was going to (1) paint quite small, and (2) try out something I saw in a post from another blogger.  It was a gizmo made from a legal document-sized clipboard ($2.00) adapted to serve as a holder for small canvases.  There is a wooden paint stirrer (free from the hardware store) glued at the bottom that serves as a lip to hold the canvas, or in my case, the little spiral bound watercolor sketchbook.  Another wooden paint stirrer gets held snugly in place with butterfly clips (from my junk drawer).  This home-made lap desk was perfect for sitting and painting today.  The clipboard provided a little more space for waxy crayons and a paintbrush, the metal clip kept my paper towels from being blown across the field, and the sketchbook was held snugly between the wooden paint stirrers. It's adjustable too - all you need do is move the top piece of wood to accommodate the size of your canvas or sketchbook.

I have other quirks that have occasionally made my experience painting outdoors less than joyful, and today I resolved to overcome them.  First, child of Depression era parents that I am, my inclination is to be a little stingy with my paint.  Today no parsimonious little dabs in the plastic travel palette, each well got a good fresh blob of watercolor paint.  My other issue is one of attitude; I want everything I do to be beautiful.  Well not everything I try turns out to my satisfaction, and today I decided to concentrate on the process; the results be what they would be.  It was much less stressful than other outdoor painting excursions, even though the results will never be shown in public - other than here.  I had fun.

Edge of the Rock Plein Air Entries

11x14 inches, acrylic on canvas

Later today I am headed back to Beloit for an artists' reception for the plein air event that is wrapping up today.  We get to meet the sponsors, vote for a "people's choice" award, and hear who won the purchase award prizes. After that the paintings will be displayed for sale for a month, with a commission on any sales going to the Friends of Riverfront, who organizes the event.

It was an interesting week.  Thee weather presented real challenges.  The day I painted this tree it was sunny and nice enough, but the wind buffeted my easel, the palette, my hat.  The acrylic paint I brought dried almost immediately, event though I misted it over and over.  Still, I was happy enough with my "Fauve" tree. The shape was simplified, the colors exaggerated. 

11x14 inches, acrylic

Later in the week I decided to try another view of the park, this time featuring more trees and a bit of downtown Beloit in the distance.  Once more I went for simplified shapes and intense color choices.  Most of the colors were straight from the tube, or mixed with only a couple colors.  The day I painted this was actually pretty nice, though it was the start of very hot weather that continued until yesterday.  Monday through Wednesday it was in the 90s, and very humid.  I tried painting Wednesday morning, but gave up at noon and returned home to my air conditioning with little completed.  I turned in both completed framed paintings yesterday. 

Whether or not the paintings win awards or sell, I did gain some confidence in painting outdoors.  I have better equipment than before, and a better sense of what I need and what I can get along without. I also have lost some of my initial fear of people casually coming up to chat while I work.  I also enjoyed reading about the Fauve painters, and had fun trying out my interpretation of their painting style, so I count the experience as a success.

That Which Does Not Kill You...

5x7 inches, acrylic on gessoed mat board, painted en plein air at Riverside Park

I decided early this spring that this would be the year the I would give plein air painting another good solid try.  There is a plein air painting event each June in Beloit, called Edge of the Rock. I tried it with watercolors in 2008, and while I produced a couple of reasonable landscapes, both of which sold, I was frustrated every day by wind, rain, and curiosity seekers.  I didn't have any sort of easel, so I had watercolor paper clipped to boards on my lap, and it wasn't the easiest situation.  My butcher tray palette flew away in the wind, and I had no real way of controlling the moisture level of my paper.  

So, I decided that this time I would try acrylics, since I have been painting with them quite a lot this winter.  Yesterday was the first warm and sunny day we have had in ages and ages, and I decided to go out and give it a try, but things didn't go very smoothly.   I have been thinking about this for a while, and about a month ago bought a french easel on eBay, what I thought was quite a good deal on some quality used equipment.  It didn't arrive and didn't arrive.  Finally I got an email from the seller saying he was sorry, but he lived in Alabama and his house had a tree fall on it in a tornado!  Of course I said he should attend to his life first, that I could wait.  So, yesterday no easel.  I went looking for my trusty old camp stool, even engaged my husband in the search, but failed to find it - so I trudged to K-Mart and bought a collapsing chair that had been marked down a couple times.  The chair actually was fine, though I was disconcerted to come home later in the afternoon to discover my spouse had unearthed the camp stool from from a dark corner of the cellar.  I have plenty of places to sit now.

I had all sorts of lists from articles I had saved that had suggestions on what to take along when painting outside.  I have a nice big plastic zippered bag with strong straps for carrying equipment.  I found a big old plastic jar, the sort that might once have held condiments for a school cafeteria, complete with a screw on lid.  I had paper towels, brushes, paint, prepared small mat boards that I had prepared.  I had a little plastic palette with a cover, and my acrylic paints.  I had a sketchbook and a pencil, I had a little viewfinder that I made from scrap cardboard and and old clear plastic transparency.  I felt I had what I needed.  Then I made my mistake.  I added a little flimsy bottle of water for drinking, and on a whim, threw my trusty Canon Powershot camera in the bag.  

The plan was to head out the the Janesville Schools Outdoor Lab, a nice rolling park-like area with a stream running through it.  But as I stood in the parking lot, then hiked part way into the woods, I could hear what sounded like a large group of elementary students, so I decided to visit Riverside Park instead. Riverside is a lovely old park right on the Rock River, and I found an interesting tree to make my focal point.  So I set up the new chair, and went to unpack my tote bag.  Oops.  The small water battle had leaked all over the bottom of the bag!  My canvas hat was dripping, my roll of paper towels was wet on one end, and then I remembered the camera.  My heart sinking, I pulled the camera out of the bottom of the bag, and saw that the viewfinder had all sorts of moisture behind the screen.  So, I took out the batteries and memory card, and locked the camera in the car, along with the useless wet hat.  

After that, besides my fumbling around, and struggling some with paint that wanted to dry out on the palette because of the steady breeze, it didn't go too badly.  It has been such a damp cool spring that there isn't much color yet.  Across the river the willows are a pretty pale yellow green, almost like a green mist, but most of the leaves have not emerged.  I had a hard time trying to make the tree in the foreground interesting, and also suggest the woods across the river.  Then there is the issue of painting water.  I think I have my work cut out for me. 

There is good news.  The poor fellow in Alabama wrote today to say he had shipped the easel, and my camera apparently is still working.  A night in a bowl of rice, and half a day on a sunny windowsill apparently dried out the moisture problem.  I successfully took a picture of our cat, so at least I don't need to buy a new camera.

Update: This photo of the old willow was taken later, with a camera that was not soaked!