Intrusions of Culture (Blog)

It seems to me that most outdoor paintings have at least two stories to tell. One, of course, is the story being told by the painting itself. In other words, what the artist is trying to say, if anything, about the scene. But the second story, which is almost exclusively associated with en plein air painting and not studio, is the real life experience of the painting during the two or three hours one spends on location. 

For example, while I was painting this scene of two juniper trees  on the grounds of a local cemetery, I noticed a young lady that was obviously grieving for someone nearby. After spending some time visiting the gravesite she walked over and struck up a conversation with me about my painting. She seemed to be comforted by the mere sight of someone painting there near her loved one. At least, I like to think so.

So there's a story right there that is forever attached to this painting. Granted, it's not much of a story, but it adds a bit of the human condition to it that is not likely to be associated with a studio piece. Just one more reason I prefer to paint on location. 

If I asked someone to randomly select one of my plein air pieces from a group, there's a better than zero chance that I could tell them something about it beyond any meanings behind it. Like the time I was mistaken for a homeless person just because I happened to be painting under a bridge by a creek. Or the time I was in the middle of a large swarm of honey bees.

From the wonderful to the weird, paintings from life have life within them. In fact, as I am writing this I'm realizing the dozens of missed opportunities where I could have added something to the painting simply by sharing some of these stories. From now on I plan to make this a priority if I can.