I had a couple of small paintings up in a group show recently. It was exciting, but honestly, it's not all about the gallery showing for me. It's more about what gets me outside and what gets my brush moving. I live near the ocean and farming fields, so most days, that's what I see. It’s hard not to soak that in—whether I’m consciously painting those scenes or not. They creep into my work in subtle ways, sometimes straight from memory, sometimes from bits and pieces of things I’ve glimpsed.
The Plein Air Experience: Painting Outside, But Not What You See
I enjoy painting outdoors, but — when I paint outside, it’s not about copying what’s in front of me. Nature is my inspiration, but I’m not trying to get every detail down. That’s what cameras are for. My goal isn’t to capture a perfect replica of the landscape. Instead, it’s more about expressing a feeling, a sense of place, or maybe just how the light plays off the land. Sometimes, the result doesn’t even look like what’s in front of me—and that’s fine. There’s a freedom in not having to get it “right.”
Why Abstract? Capturing the Feeling, Not the Scene
The paintings often take on an abstract quality, and I think that’s because I’m more interested in the emotional impression rather than the literal scene. Painting outside, plein air, connects me with the world in a different way. I’m not just observing the landscape; I’m in it, part of it, reacting to it. The sound of wind through the trees, the smell of the earth after rain, or the way the sky shifts color as the sun drops—it all filters into my work. Even though what ends up on the canvas might not resemble what’s right in front of me, it feels like I’ve captured something real, something alive.
Embracing Imperfection and Growth
And sometimes the painting just doesn’t turn out how I expected. But that’s okay. The process itself, being out there, makes life feel a little more bearable. It's not always about the end result. Sometimes it’s just about making something, anything, and letting it show you a piece of what’s inside you that you didn’t even know was there. The act of painting, of creating—no matter how well or badly—helps me feel like I’m growing in some small way.
Letting Nature Guide My Art
Every brushstroke teaches me something, even when it’s not what I set out to do. So, my landscapes might not be “realistic” . What matters to me is that I’m out there, experiencing it, and translating that into paint, letting the fields, the waves, and the open skies make their way onto the canvas in their own way.