Trail Tale

A friend & I went out painting last week in a "natural area" near a trail that was being used by hikers, joggers, etc. We didn't have much time, since the sun sets early this time of year, and we were engrossed, ignoring the occasional foot traffic behind us.

After quite some time, I heard a voice from the trail say, "Could you start talking?" I didn't pay any attention, but my friend said, "What?" and the voice replied, "Just say anything...so he knows that you're just people."

I looked up and saw a horse & rider on the trail. The horse was standing stock-still, head up, ears alert, nostrils flaring. I started talking in a reassuring tone. I asked if we should stand up so he could see us better, but she said, "No, he needs to get used to weird things." It must have been the silver umbrella facing into the sun that struck fear into his heart. I kept coaxing, and eventually he walked up and sniffed my outstretched hand. Brave boy! He even walked over a wooden-plank bridge when they went on their way.

There have been many books written lately about new ways to relate to horses, from learning about "prey consciousness," learning their language, to Equine Assisted Therapy, to intuitive communication and tapping into collective consciousness by listening to our horses. I think these techniques are the same things we need when we go painting - to create calm, confident energy and a clear intention, to visualize the desired outcome, try looking at things "soft-focus," to silence the inner critic, to be in the moment, to be patient (and to be patient with yourself).

And to be open to the magic of a chance encounter.

Swimming with Keats

In the new movie "Bright Star," John Keats describes poetry in a way that could just as well refer to painting. He says, "The point of diving in a lake is not immediately to swim to the shore; it's to be in the lake, to luxuriate in the sensation of water. You do not work the lake out. It is an experience beyond thought. Poetry soothes and emboldens the soul to accept mystery."

Mmm...and the colors of our paint are at least as much fun as diving into a lake. Maybe even better. And certainly we are dealing with mystery. The mysteries of light, shadows, clouds, wind & weather. We wonder what the painting will look like, a one-of-a-kind creation under the influence of mood, muscle memory, imagination and point of view. Accept mystery.

Sketchcrawl - Saturday, September 19th

Here's a fun idea - a worldwide day for sketching whatever you see. Get together with cohorts, or go it alone, then post your results on the Sketchcrawl website. It will make you pay attention to your everyday surroundings, maybe see things you've never noticed before. It's funny how even a fire hydrant can become a beautiful watercolor sketch. No rules. Take 20 minutes or make a day of it. All skill levels welcome, from beginner to pro. Invite the kids. Use a pencil, pen, brush-pen, watercolors (or those new watercolor crayons), colored pencils, pastels...

Enrico Casarosa is a storyboard artist living in San Francisco, working in animation by day, publishing artbooks and comics by night. Stuck between the gravitational pulls of Italy (his home country) and Japan (a cultural passion). Inspired by a bachelor party pub-crawl in 2006, he got the idea for sketching marathons and started doing it every few months, spreading the word until now it's happening worldwide.

La Paloma

Pablo Picasso has been famously quoted as saying something like, "To paint a dove, one must first wring its neck." I always thought it must have something to do with his cubist style, but in a broader sense, we all do that when we paint. Even the most realistic, sensitive works are about taking something's essence and turning it into something else - a painting. And, in the end, the painting has to survive or fail on its own merits. Two dimensions and a limited palette (they're *all* limited) is all you get, regardless of how dynamic & fascinating the subject matter that stands in front of your easel.

The payoff is that you have an experience (probably a learning experience), a souvenir and something you can share (even down through the generations). And, of course, the ultimate payoff is your increased awareness and facility. The qualities that you see in front of you eventually become part of you.

Starry Night

We just got back from a trip overseas. As we were coming in for a landing, I started talking to the man next to me, and it turned out it was Paul Davids, who had written, produced and directed a movie with Universal Studios about Vincent van Gogh. Entitled Starry Night, its intriguing premise is: What if van Gogh could return to life in our century...what would he think about the fate of his paintings, all the money they had generated, and what would he do about it?

Davids is quoted in a review from the Edenburgh International Film Festival:

"The film is a little bit of counter-programming against the wave of edgy movies that are being made now. It's very intentionally a family film about love, second chances, hope, optimism and faith, but it does have a strong undercurrent of irony. We wanted to celebrate van Gogh's genius and to give youngsters an impression of the life of an artist."

It won the Audience Award for Best Feature Film at the Newport Beach Film Festival, out of 400 submitted.

Starry Night is available from Amazon and from its own site.

Pegasus

Pegasus, my last remaining wolfdog, died of lymphoma recently. I knew there was nothing we could do. I'd felt the hard lumps under his jaws, but he seemed so healthy otherwise that it came as a bit of a surprise when, after a few months, he stopped eating and drinking. In the midst of a heavy spring blizzard, we said goodbye. He was ten and a half years old.

One of the things that helped ease the pain was the routine of feeding the other dogs. I'd go out to the shed as usual, pretending that he was still there with them.

Routine sometimes has a bad reputation among painters, but it's definitely part of the process. The sun comes up every morning, we breathe in, we breathe out. Part of our purpose is to avoid stereotypes, but habit can be like a tuning fork, reminding us to pay attention. Is it possible to make a habit of freshness, originality? Look at those colors, the depth, the softness. It won't always be there like it is now.

Low-Budget Travel

Painting outdoors is a relatively low-budget activity, and you can do it without going out of town. I like the idea of planting a vegetable garden and using it as a subject for painting as well as for food. Painting your pets is rewarding, whether or not you end up with a finished painting...it's the increased awareness that counts. The look in their eyes, the poise & strength, the shadings of their coat, the shape of the eyes...

But sometimes you do want to travel. It's refreshing, inspiring, enlightening, you can visit museums, friends & family or your ancestral homeland, and experience completely different food, people, art, architecture and landscapes.

There are ways to make it less expensive. Don't buy anything in an airport, go to grocery stores instead of restaurants, fly standby off-season, camp out, or go where the dollar will buy more (like South America instead of Europe).

Here are some websites that are devoted to traveling on a shoestring:
No Budget Travel is a blog with all kinds of information & recommendations.
Couch Surfing facilitates finding (and offering) a free place to stay.
The Hospitality Club has a similar purpose.
There are also sites for inexpensive rooms or apartments. Try AirBnB or Free Rentals (the rooms aren't free, but listing a rental is).
And The Simple Dollar gives lots of general advice about saving & managing money (I've used the "make your own laundry detergent" recipe, which is fun & effective).