The one thing I've noticed about painting en plein-air (open air) is the scents of the day. When I visit a painting that has been sold, maybe years ago, I can still remember the day it was painted if it were painted on location as opposed to in my studio. I drove out by Campbell Lake at the foot of Mount Erie today. The Mount Erie Grocery sits neatly at it's namesakes base almost timeless in it's demeanor. A smell of silage drifts through the air, an unmistakable mark of this day. A small Jersey cow watches me paint then drifts away after boredom sets in. Watching a painter paint is something close to watching grass grow.
http://www.alfredcurrier.com/
Friday, June 26, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Contre Jour
For some odd reason, every summer I've painted at the end of Ninth Street, for the past 19 years. The light is always different and I love the challenge of painting into the sun, also known as "contre jour" by the French.
http://www.alfredcurrier.com/
Friday, June 19, 2009
Cycling and Painting
I've been a bicyclist at heart for most of my life. I say "at heart" because I haven't ridden much in recent years. The concept of cycling and plein-air painting has always intrigued me so off to Vancouver Island, British Columbia I went on my overloaded 85# bike. Most serious cyclists would be horrified at that weight but, no tube of paint was left behind thus a secure artist treks on. My travels took me to Victoria via the Lockside Bike Trail for three days with a side trip to Sooke on the Galloping Goose Trail. I painted a produce market in Victoria on a glorious day of sunshine, great color too. Riding to Salt Spring Island was a little more challenging. It was a steep climb straight out from the ferry but, I did not have a concept of what hills were ahead. I don't have a method for capturing miles but soon after the ferry landing climb, the road began a slow increasing grade that seemed like three to four miles. Then a sharp turn to the right and the road went vertical. My lungs were holding but, my thighs were burning. I drank and ate every electolyte replacement I had but, finally I ground to a stop. (Hm-mm, 85#?) I walked the last 1/2 mile and finally summited. Simultaneously to this grind, friends of mine, Jill, J.B., and others were summiting Mount Baker. I felt akin with them. The results of painting yielded 3 for the week. The results of cycling yielded 150 miles. The combined results are mixed in my mind, too much weight. Staying local with my bike and paints seems more intriguing now.
I have a dream has now been changed to I had a dream. Maybe a motorcycle, hmmm?
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