Farming Inspired My Landscape Painting

Veins of Life: Painting with the Patience of a Farmer

“Veins of Life” oil on unstretched canvas

Armed with an easel and more mosquito repellent than paint, I ventured out for a plein air painting session in the middle of a farm field. The result? “Veins of Life” which is a thick impasto abstract farm landscape painting. If you squint, it looks like a lush green field; if you don't, it might resemble a mess on canvas. Either way, this art inspired by nature turned into more than just an abstract landscape. It taught me about the hardship, risk, rhythm, and resilience of farming.

Planting Paint in the Field

“Veins of Life” abstraxct landacape oil on unstretched canvas. Scroll down to see what it looks like completed and unstretched.

Farming and art have more in common than you’d think. Farmers invest in faith and patience, trusting the seasons will reward their hard work. When I started slathering those first green strokes on the canvas, I felt like I was planting something too. And I hoped no local cow would snack on my canvas.

Painting en plein air (fancy words for painting outside) means accepting slow rewards and fast risks. I waited hours for layers to dry (slow reward), then one big gust of wind sent my wet canvas flying face-down into the dirt (fast risk). They say farmers gamble daily with nature; after chasing my canvas across a field, I believe it. My failed gamble left me with a dirt-smeared painting, while a farmer could lose an entire crop.

Hands that Shape, Hearts on the Line

I once heard a farmer’s hands shape the earth. I thought about that as I smeared paint with my palette knife, shaping a mini landscape of ridges and furrows. When I paint and something goes wrong, at least I am not going to “lose the farm.” Sure, the worst that can happen is that I risk getting a blister or a sunburn, but my heart is on the line with every mark I make on the canvas.. Artists pour themselves into their work, and it hurts when things fall apart. I imagine farmers feel something a whole lot worse in their gut when a season goes wrong. That is fragile hope. .

The Rhythm of Resilience

“Veins ofLife” oil on unstretched canvas. This is how the pinting looks aftercompleting it and keeping it unframed.

Farming has a rhythm: plant, wait, hope, harvest, repeat. My painting process follows a similar beat: dream up an idea, lay down color, step back to wait, then add more after it dries. It demands a boatload of patience, whether you’re living the artist life or the farming life.

In the end, “Veins of Life” became a tribute to resilience. A farmer can have a field wiped out by a freak storm and still find the strength to replant. I can have a canvas go off the rails and still show up the next day with a blank canvas. Sure, my canvas won’t feed anyone. But it feeds the soul and connects me to the land and the people who do feed us.

“Veins of Life” now hangs in my studio as a reminder that every creative act is a little like farming: you plant, you hope, you work, you improvise, you gamble, you trust. And you hope for the rewards of your work.