A Little Plein Air

Today I had a magical rare day off where I had almost nothing I had to do and I was frozen with indecision. Then I realized what I really wanted to do, something I’ve dreamed of doing for a long time:

Plein air painting!

Plein air is French for "outdoors" and plein air painting is the act of painting outdoors (I know, I'm so brave considering it still feels like summer right now in Florida).

It’s been a while since I’ve painted in public, and I’ve never painted with oils in front of anyone, so I knew this would be a fun little challenge!

I gathered up my oil paints, a canvas, brushes, medium, thinner, a blanket, and a ton of paper towels.

There’s a little park with a few huge, gorgeous banyan trees close by, and I made myself a nice little spot in the grass.

There's something wonderful about a banyan tree. It reminds me of the giant trees in Guatemala with their slender, sloping roots and little nooks and crannies between each one. I used to climb them when I was a little girl, hopping from root to root. I'm sure the trees really appreciated that.

I love the way the banyan trees cling to the earth with a thousand stringy fingers and reach for the sky... it's like they know something we don't.

The sun filtered through the trees in bright bursts of gold, and I prepared my canvas.

I started with a sepia underpainting then created a deep grey-brown-blue mix for the trunks. No pencil sketch, just diving in with the brush.

It's so funny how brains work. I looked at the trunks and thought: gray. So black + white. But there's a warmth to it, so add brown. But it's in the shadows and has a coolness, so add blue. But it still has a brightness to it, so add a little yellow.

It sounds like a mad way to come up with a color, but it worked well for my base. I like to go a little darker with my oils and work my way lighter. It's easier than wasting a bunch of paint fighting the strength of titanium white.

As I painted, a little pink dove came by to check me out, curious why I hadn't moved along yet.

As the minutes passed, I realized how many people just walk around this park in circles all morning. A man holding his coffee speaking Russian. A woman planning her business meeting. A set of three teachers discussing testing for their students. All little worlds that I could peek into like glistening bubbles dancing with complexity. And then they would float away.

As one group passed for the third time, a woman saw my painting and said, “Wow that’s really coming along!” I showed off my progress and gathered my oohs and aahs. That was fun.

Many people smiled or said, "Good morning!" One old man looked at me, didn't seem to have the words, and said, "You look comfortable!" I said, "Yup!" and he was off.

Sometimes people are funny when they don't know what to say.

I’m pretty sure I got a little sunburnt on one side of my face, but it was really nice to sit in silence for two hours and just paint out in the fresh air. It's nice to settle into a delicious sonder and be an NPC for a while. I was background noise, a piece of furniture to make the park look correct. Oh look, there's the strange woman painting there on the grass.

I’m pretty happy with my one-layer plein air banyan tree! Is it perfect? Nope! But I learned a lot and it felt nice to get out of my studio and into the world. I may not be selling my art at the moment, but it was nice to bring my art on a little field trip. And I'm proud I'm brave enough to post it right now. Three years ago, I never would have posted imperfect pictures with an unfinished painting - that would be madness! But now... I've learned that it's not about the perfection, and as I love to say:

It's not about the made, it's about the making.

In the end, I was thankful for the sun, the little ant that bit my foot, the judgmental pink dove, the scrabbling squirrels raining leaves down on me, and all the wisdom the banyan trees deemed to impart.