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The Inner World of Plein Air Painting

Let’s be honest. There are many hurdles to jump when painting outside. And I’m going to jump right over the obvious ones like finding a location, temperature and humidity, wind, bugs, onlookers, and painting gear. I’d like to examine my inner world and share it with you.  

Why does the work always seem to fall short of my intentions? It is rare to look out on the scene I’ve chosen, to picture the composition in my mind, to mix up a palette of color in the proper values, and to wind up with a winner. I usually pack up my gear, take a final look at my wet painting and say “what happened here?” These are the reasons why I keep plein air painting anyway.

1. I have seen my paintings improve over time. 
2. I feel more in the present and part of nature when I’m outside.
3. Being unable to execute my conception exactly can result in a happy surprise.

Number 1 is significant. Painting outside, from direct observation, is where I learn the most. In general, it is easier to paint in the studio because it is more comfortable, I have more control, and I’m usually using a photo reference, which is a flat image. Number 2 is simply therapeutic, and makes me feel good for no logical reason. Number 3 is about seeing the unexpected appear on my canvas, and letting it stand.

I do a lot of self-talking. Ironically, I’m usually telling myself to ignore the mental chattering. This is much easier said than done, and it’s the physical “doing” that will quiet my chatter. So here is the advice I give myself -

1. Paint often and small. Go out with 6x8’s to “take notes,” not create a masterpiece.
2. Use a slow, fast, slow, fast practice. Choose your subject slowly, spend some time walking the area. Squint. Make three thumbnails and choose the best one based on design.  Quickly mix up some colors, dividing your palette into the family of light and shadow values, and try to make larger piles for the dominant colors.  Slowly, measure and draw your shapes.  Then quickly get those shapes in and cover your canvas.
3. Minimize your editing and correcting. Stop painting before you think it’s finished, and refrain from critiquing it in the field. You will need fresh eyes to see how your painting looks when it stands alone. Don’t continue to stand and compare it to the majesty and wonder of Mother Nature.

I wish all my paintings were beautiful. I wish I could at least dependably repeat whatever made some paintings successful. (Ah HAH – those two sentences are good examples of my self-talk! And I am telling myself to ignore this chatter.) I often have to send myself outside to play, like a complaining child. But, I love this child and will not berate her for being lazy, shy, fearful, or inattentive. Becoming a better painter is a lifelong pursuit which has no finish line; no crowning achievement; no definitive goal. So, let’s take it one small study at a time and be kind to ourselves along the way.