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Business for artists and painting in Sedona

Shadow Fingers, 11X14, oil on Baltic birch, $869 includes shipping and handling in continental United States.

First, the business

My friend Dennis used to tell me, ā€œIā€™m an accountant with the soul of an artist.ā€ Thatā€™s all very well, Iā€™d counter, but every successful artist also needs the mind of an accountant. (Luckily, I never believed in that now-discredited left-brain, right-brain malarkey.)

On March 8-9, Iā€™ll be presenting at the first Sedona Entrepreneurial Artist Development Program. This is open to Arizona residents aged 18 and over. The two-day intensive covers a range of topics from financial management and marketing to crafting an artist statement, developing work samples and selling artwork online. My part will be accounting for artists, and I plan to make it exciting.

Even if you hire someone to do your taxes, you still need to understand what expenses to record and what donā€™t matter. You need to be able to track your inventory, and, if you teach or run a gallery, how to protect yourself against liability.

Country path, 14X18, oil on archival canvasboard, $1,275 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Painting in Sedona

Immediately following the Entrepreneurial program, Iā€™m offering Canyon Color for the Painter from March 10-14. There are still a few seats left.

Iā€™ve taught and painted in Sedona for several years and know great places for morning light, evening light, and all the light in between. Weā€™ll meet on location at 9 AM, work steadily until 4, and then youā€™ll have the evening to hike, take one of the famous Pink Jeep tours, or try one of Sedonaā€™s many fine restaurants. If the weather is poorā€”and it almost never isā€”we can meet in a classroom at the Sedona Arts Center (SAC).

Dawn on the Upper Red Rock Loop Road, 20X24, oil on canvas, $2,318 includes shipping and handling in continental United States.

The top five things I love about painting in Sedona

  1. The weatherā€”there is a scene in PG Wodehouseā€™s Quick Service where the old prizefighter Steptoe is trying to convince his wife to give up on Merry Olde England. ā€œWhat you want wasting your time in this darned place beats me. Nobody but stiffs for miles around. And look what happens today. You give this lawn party, and what do you get? Cloudbursts and thunderstorms. Where’s the sense in sticking around in a climate like this?ā€

    He was urging her back to California, but in Sedona itā€™s also almost always fine. After this winter, we deserve fine.

  2. The sceneryā€”Sedona combines some very brilliant colors: the reds of Bell and Cathedral Rock, the lush greens of Oak Creek Canyon, the sere yellows of the chaparral, and the deep blue of the sky. Because itā€™s seldom overcast, shadows jump and the light shimmers. Itā€™s just magical.

  3. The peopleā€”Iā€™ve known Julie Richard, the executive director of SAC, for a decade. Itā€™s the same with Ed Buonvecchio, my workshop monitor. The rest of the support staff, including Bernadette Carroll and JD Jensen (with whom youā€™ll have the most contact), are kind and terrifically helpful.

  4. The hikingā€”There are 400 miles of hiking trails in the Red Rock Ranger District on the Coconino National Forest. Then there are state and city parks. Sedona is a hikerā€™s paradise, and I swear Julie Richard can tell you about every single trail.

  5. The funny things that always seem to happen to me thereā€”Painting in Sedona has led to extremely funny interactions between the punters and me. I donā€™t think thatā€™s from ley lines and vortexes, but because in the grand scheme of things, plein air painters are just one more dot on the overwhelming landscape. Come prepared to smile.
Hail on the Cockscomb Formation, oil on Baltic Birch, $522 includes shipping and handling in continental United States.

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Bells on Bobā€™s trail ring

Drifts and gusts at Erickson Field (if it doesn’t blow me over, it will trip me up), 8X10, oil on archival canvasboard, $522 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Today is my 66th birthday. By choice Iā€™ve lived every one of those long years in the far north. I like winter; I hate heat. I was born in Buffalo, NY, which means my blood is an amalgam of snow and beer. So, when I tell you this winter has been a unique pain in the arthritic joints, I speak from deep personal experience.

Can you paint in the winter? Heck, yeah.

Little Tree in the snow, 4X6, oil on archival canvasboard, $217 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

About 25 years ago, I set out to paint every day of the year. I was living in Rochester, NY, which is every bit as tempestuous weatherwise as Buffalo. There were blizzards, there was sleet, there was hail, there were torrential rainstorms, there were line squalls, there were those awful, sticky, still, humid summer days that resolve into thunderstorms. Do you know what my take-away lesson was? I never need to do that again.

That doesnā€™t mean I wonā€™t paint in the snow if the spirit moves me. Can you paint in the winter? Of course, if you dress right. Itā€™s not quite true that thereā€™s no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing. However, my friend Poppy Balser paints outside in winter a lot. To be fair, though, Nova Scotia is milder than Maine. (If you want to try snow painting, my friend Catharine swears by these rechargeable pocket warmers.)

Weā€™ve had a steady snow cover since December and many sunny days, so why havenā€™t I gotten out to paint? Itā€™s been too frigid, the snow is deep and covers a slick layer of ice, and the wind seems to howl incessantly. While it looks lovely from my living room window, itā€™s been miserable out there.

We had an awful storm at the beginning of this week, with snow layering on sleet layering on snow. I got a glum text from Ken DeWaard. ā€œI am officially sick of the snow,ā€ he said. ā€œI canā€™t even push it off the deck.ā€ I felt badly for him until I went outside and realized that the portable garage-tent over my Ford 9N tractor had collapsed. And that was before the 50 MPH gusts hit later in the day.

Baby pine tree in the snow. That’s a different baby pine tree. 9X12, oil on loose canvas.

Bobā€™s trail

Iā€™m 66 and in rude good health, despite having had three different cancers. I blame this on my lifelong exercise habits. I ran until my first cancer at age 40; Iā€™ve been walking and hiking long distances since then.

Iā€™m supposed to be training to hike around Malta and Gozo in early April. My training regimen meant I should be doing five miles a day now. (All three of my hiking partners are younger, fitter, and possibly better-looking.) But the trails here are deeply buried; over the past week, Iā€™ve struggled to do 2.5 miles. On Monday it took me an hour to push through just one mile. By Monday afternoon, even the dogs wouldnā€™t go out into that wind.

My mittens, 9X12, oil on loose canvas.

ā€˜Bobā€™s trailā€™ is what I call an informal extra loop on my regular ascent, because my trail-buddy Bob first stomped it out. For the past several days, Iā€™ve been pushing uphill on it and then realizing Iā€™m too spent to make the rest of my loop.

Bob and his wife are regulars on these trails. Sometimes they do them on snowshoes. Thatā€™s a real blessing, because snowshoes pack the snow down evenly and make it possible to walk in their tracks. ā€œOh, where the heck are you,ā€ I breathed, as I pushed through yet more snow. And then I realized that theyā€™re in Vietnam, where the temperature is hovering around 70Ā° F.

I guess Iā€™d better go out to the shed and fetch my own dang snowshoes.

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Two paintings heading west

Poplars, 12X16, oil on archival canvasboard, available through Sedona Arts Center.

Going to Sedona Arts Center

I did about 95% of this painting while whooping it up with Ed Buonvecchio and Laura Martinez-Bianco in the Oak Creek Valley north of Slide Rock State Park. It was the last day of Sedona Arts Centerā€™s 19th Annual Sedona Plein Air Festival. Ed wisely focused on the rocks rather than the trees. Laura and I waded into the foliage, looking for the abstraction that would define the place.

The scene has a flat meadow of dry grasses that cut straight across the base of the trees. Although the color was exquisite, I could find no way to include the grass without making a compositional blunder. Furthermore, black poplars are leggy and ungainly trees, although they were a magnificent golden color on that autumn day.

Claude Monet repeatedly visited poplars in a series of now-famous paintings. Nominally, these are about the trees, but their real subject is the interplay of light and pattern.

What I found so compelling (and difficult) about the scene was the repetition of the strong vertical motif in the trees and the rock spires behind them. I emphasized this by making the far-left tree bleed into the vertical chasm above it.

Sometimes we take risky decisions. Inevitably someone will come along and tell us how to correct our ā€˜mistakesā€™. I could have avoided the confluence of tree and rock, but it wouldnā€™t have been nearly as interesting to paint. Monsieur Monet never took the safe path; why should I?

Poplars is going with me to the 20th Annual Sedona Plein Air Festival later this month. Iā€™m always happy to go to the Sedona Arts Center; not only do I get to see lots of my friends, but itā€™s a great organization.

Floof, 8X10, private collection.

Floof!

This is going to a private collection out west. Its owner wanted a coastal Maine painting (who doesn’t?) so sheā€™s getting this tiny confection of surf and rock, with a bit of pine in the top left corner. Thatā€™s pretty much what this state is all about, after all.

I am not sure why I called it Floof, except I kept saying that to myself as I churned the water up. As for the rocks themselves, theyā€™re along the Bagaduce River in the town of Penobscot, ME.

A reminder

Student show
Richards Hill Gallery
394 Commercial Street
Rockport, ME 04856
4-6 PM
Friday, October 11, 2024

Artworks for Humanity

Sunrise, City Park, by Carol L. Douglas, 18X24, oil on linen, available in Artworks for Humanity auction.

This summer I ambled up to Belfast with Ken DeWaard, Peter Yesis, and Stephen Florimbi to paint for the third annual Artworks for Humanity. As usual, we puttered around but nothing stuck. I did, however, learn what a captainā€™s gig is: a long narrow boat with both a slew of oars and a mast and sail. And I did several starts, which I may or may not finish.

From Harbor Park, Alison Hill

I can only wonder why Stephan Giannini loves to paint nocturnes, but heā€™s very good at it. I only like nocturnes if I can start them just before dawn, as Iā€™m very much a morning person. Luckily, my subject, City Park in Belfast, looks great at dawn. It faces east.

McLaughlin’s Lobster Shack, Lincolnville, Stephan Giannini

Iā€™ve given you just a sample of this yearā€™s paintings, but the full complement is viewable here. There are 25 lots in all; just click on the main image to start scrolling. (I’m lot 20.)

Goose River Morning, Peter Yesis

These paintings will be auctioned to support Habitat for Humanity of Waldo County. Sadly, Iā€™ll be out of town. If you too will be away from midcoast Maine I urge you to bid on your favorite painting by contacting Kim at Waterfall Arts. She will take your information in advance and Habitat will have stand-in bidding on your behalf, up to your maximum bid.

In recent years, affordable housing has become difficult to find in coastal Maine. Visitors are affected just as much as full-time residents, because this disproportionately impacts service-industry workers. Buying a painting in this auction does more than just give you a lifetime memento of the place you love.

Afternoon Light, Bjƶrn Runquist

The public is invited to view the work in the Bayview Room of the United Farmers Market of Maine between 2:30-3:30 on September 28th. A ticketed reception with the artists will run from 4:30-5:30. The auction, by Belfast Mayor Eric Sanders, will begin at 5:30.

Belfast Morning, Eric Jacobsen

Harbormaster, Dan Corey

Visit www.artworksforhumanity.org for more details. Tickets can be purchased online, in advance at the office of Mailloux & Marden, P.A. (151 High St., Belfast), or at the door. 

The Colonial, Colin Page

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:

Weeds, pests and other good design

First intimations of fall, 8X10, oil on prepared birch surface.

Weā€™re in a long run of beautiful weather here in Maine. Ken DeWaardEric JacobsenBjƶrn Runquist and I have been out plein air painting as much as possible. I really need to do some paperwork, but thereā€™s no rain on the forecast. How do people in southern California get anything done?

Here in New England, we know that any long stretch of warm, sunny, rain-free weather is the exception. Like squirrels storing up nuts for winter, weā€™re storing up visual memories of these warm days.

Overgrown, 8X10, oil on archival canvasboard.

I havenā€™t concerned myself with results. Iā€™ve just painted fast and immersed myself in the process. Are any of these finished? Absolutely not. But theyā€™re better than what was on those boards before.

For some reason, itā€™s been all about the weeds for me this week. Iā€™m a big fan of God-as-gardener; I donā€™t think artificial gardens can touch wild meadows for beauty.

Natureā€™s palette shifts as the season progresses. Spring starts with delicate pastel blossoms blooming alongside the lilacs and dog roses. By midsummer, the blossoms grow more colorful, with crown vetch, clover and fireweed (and the brief, glorious burst of red wood lilies). Now that weā€™re approaching our first frost, we see radiant spirals of white and purple asters among the goldenrod. All are punctuated with the dried husks of milkweed and other earlier-blooming plants.

An unmowed field, 9X12, oil on archival canvasboard.

Purple loosestrife is, of course, an invasive pest and noxious weed; the experts all tell us that. They suggest pulling the plants before they can set seeds or, if itā€™s not in a wetland, spraying with an herbicide. (However, it likes its feet damp, so it avoids wholesale chemical slaughter, for the most part.)

Itā€™s been around longer than I have, but its press is so bad that Iā€™ve avoided painting it. However, the color is like nothing else in nature, and it complements goldenrod wonderfully.

The heck with it, I decided. If Eric doesnā€™t mind that itā€™s growing in his back field, neither do I. ā€œThe bees love it,ā€ Eric told me. And anyways, Iā€™m kind of an invasive species here, myself.

Sunbathers at Beauchamp Point, 9X12, oil on archival canvasboard.

Iā€™ve painted boats at Beauchamp Point many times, since Rockport is a haven for wooden-boat enthusiasts. This week, I was distracted by a group of sunbathers, laughing and talking in the sweet evening air. Thereā€™s no sand on this ā€˜beachā€™, just rocks and bigger rocks, but thereā€™s something satisfying about stretching out on a sun-kissed boulder. Pro tip: if you want people to leave, just start painting them.

Yesterday afternoon, Bjƶrn and I were finishing up, the others having moved along. An onshore breeze picked up. The temperature dropped, the leaves showed their undersides; a large flock of gulls pirouetted over our heads. ā€œWhere Iā€™m from,ā€ I told Bjƶrn, ā€œthe leaves turning over means a weather change.ā€ Heā€™d heard that too, but no such weather change is on the forecast.

After a lifetime in western New York, I could predict the weather from the sky, the wind, and even the smell of the air. Even after a decade, I have no such ability in Maine. I once asked Captain John Foss, what signs he looked for to predict a weather change. ā€œI listen to the weather forecast,ā€ he told me.

Mark next Friday on your calendar

Grand opening
Carol L. Douglas Gallery at Richards Hill
Friday, September 13, 5-7 PM
394 Commercial Street, Rockport, ME 04856

For more details, see here.

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:

Looking at summer in my rear-view mirror

Mature white pine at the Olson House, Cushing, ME, one of three things I painted on Thursday. Being contrarian, I refused to paint either the iconic view or the iconic house.

In past years, painting with Ken DeWaard, Eric Jacobsen and Bjƶrn Runquist wouldnā€™t have been worth a mention. This year I didnā€™t manage it until last Thursday. My summer has been terribly overbooked, something Iā€™ve been complaining about for decades. Thatā€™s a pity when one lives in the northeast, where summer and fall are the best seasons.

I recently suggested to my daughter that we make a pact to not work more than 45 hours a week on non-family things. ā€œI canā€™t possibly!ā€ she responded. Sheā€™s a third-generation over-scheduler; my mother was the same way. When I was 35, my mother tried to get me to stop it, with about the same success. At 65 I begin to see what she was talking about. You donā€™t do anything well if youā€™re trying to do everything.

Having unsuccessfully laid down the gauntlet to my daughter, I spent the Labor Day weekend wrestling with myself about where Iā€™ll cut down.

Brigantine Swift in Camden Harbor, 24X30, oil on canvas, framed, $3478 includes shipping and handling in continental US. Yes, this was painted en plein air, and if you want to see it in real life, it’s at Lone Pine Real Estate, 19 Elm Street, Camden, ME

What good is a teacher who doesnā€™t paint?

I sometimes feel as if Iā€™m potting along in a Chevy Aveo while my friends pass me left and right in their Corvettes. I love teaching and Iā€™m good at it. But that makes it too easy to sacrifice painting for teaching time. Painting should be constant revelation, change and discovery, and you canā€™t do that without a brush in your hand.

This, of course, is nobodyā€™s fault but my own.

As I always tell my students, painting in the studio is good, but painting outdoors in natural light is the best possible training for an artist. In Maine, summer and fall are the best seasons, but, dang, theyā€™re short!

Athabasca River Confluence, 9X12, $696 includes shipping and handling in continental US. I might crank about travel right now, but this is a place I’d go back to in a nanosecond.

Iā€™m limiting my 2025 workshops.

Iā€™m only going to teach four workshops in 2025, and none of them will involve flying.

Advanced Plein Air Painting (Rockport, ME), July 7-11, 2025

This is an opportunity for more advanced painters to work on the complex concepts in painting, like directing the viewerā€™s eye, narrative flow, serious drawing, etc. If youā€™ve already studied with me, email me to ask if you should take this workshop. If not, send me some sample work as per the course description.

Thatā€™s the only workshop thatā€™s only for advanced painters. The rest are open to students of all levels (and I like a mixture of experience; it makes it livelier for everyone).

Sunset over Cadillac Mountain, oil on archival canvasboard, $869 includes shipping and handling. There’s a reason this is my longest-running workshop.

Sea and Sky at Acadia National Park, August 3-8, 2025

This is an opportunity to spend time at Americaā€™s first national park. Iā€™d encourage you to live in if possible; it becomes a bonding and immersive experience. However, I always have commuters and they seem to benefit as well. Iā€™ve been teaching this workshop longer than any other, because itā€™s a personal favorite.

Find Your Authentic Voice in Plein Air, Berkshires, August 11-15, 2025

This is centered in historic Lenox, MA. I chose this location because itā€™s in easy driving distance of NYC (3 hours) and Boston (2.5 hours). The Berkshires are relaxed, agricultural, historic and scenic. Plus, you can get good cider doughnuts. Itā€™s the only workshop I teach where I also have been known to go shopping.

Immersive In-Person Fall Workshop, Rockport ME, October 6-10, 2025.

This is the height of fall color, for which of course New England is famous. Add the tang of the ocean and the peculiar reds of blueberry barrens and itā€™s downright otherworldly. I throw in a few curveballs, like a model in the landscape and a visit to the Farnsworth Art Museum in Rockland.

(By the way, if you want to do this in 2024, I still have a few openings.)

What does that mean for you?

It means that only 59 people will have the opportunity to study with me in person in 2025. (Iā€™ll still be teaching on Zoom, of course.) Iā€™ll be promoting these workshops all fall, but if you know you want to take one, you might as well register and make your deposit now.

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:

Why I love plein air painting

Midsummer along the Bay of Fundy, 24×36, available.

Given a choice of painting the same subject en plein air or in the studio, Iā€™ll always go outdoors. I think it makes for better paintings, but itā€™s also a better experience.

In general, painting from life is superior to painting from photos. Photography works out the subject, composition and color for you, and itā€™s hard to escape its bossiness. People can work from life within the genres of still life, interiors and figure painting, but the natural world is the biggest and best source of observed reality.

The Whole Enchilada, 12X16, oil on archival canvas, $1159 unframed.

Full immersion

Being surrounded by the environment that I am painting is a full sensory experience. Yes, that can include insects and jackhammers, but itā€™s more likely to include sweet smells on soft breezes and birdsong.

For every painting location, there are many potential subjects and compositions. I once stood on a hillside and painted in each cardinal direction. I didnā€™t begin to plumb the possibilities of that site.

Painting outdoors lets me experience natural light in its full color spectrum. Look at any photograph of a scene you know and love, and youā€™ll quickly realize how photos flatten and distort color. And painting indoors under bad lights is just horrible for your color perception.

Iā€™ve painted in rainstorms, in withering heat and humidity, and in blasting Arctic cold. More commonly, I go out when the weather is moderate, but its changeability has taught me ways to control and adapt my painting, and above all, to work fast.

Dawn Wind, Twin Lights, 9X12, oil on archival canvasboard, $869 includes shipping and handling in the continental US.

The great outdoors

Being an outdoorswoman to my bones, I appreciate that plein air painting lets me work in beautiful places. Standing quietly in one place for hours allows you to see it in a different way from that of the typical tourist. People love the natural world but due to issues of time, money and mobility, they canā€™t always get to it. (I remind myself to be thankful every day I can climb Beech Hill.) Plein air painting is a way to bring nature to a world thatā€™s increasingly insulated.

On the best of days, you can text a photo of a wood lily or an elk to a friend. Thatā€™s humbling.

Palm Tree and Sunlight, oil on archival canvasboard, $869 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Some of my best friends are plein air painters

I know plein air painters from all over North America. The crush of plein air events means weā€™re often thrown together in ways that forge deep friendships. I might not see them for years, but we fall back into our old rhythms of friendship very easily.

I see this in my workshop students, too. There is something about standing on a rock with the same people for a week that fosters closeness.

Plein air is not limiting

Some of my friends love painting architecture; some like painting in large cities (that used to be me). Some are attracted to the bleak industrial wasteland. Some like the high desert, and others like the ocean. Iā€™m easy, myself; I love the landscape Iā€™m with. But thereā€™s no wrong subject in plein air. Beauty is everywhere, and as long as Iā€™m still mobile, Iā€™ll still seek it out.

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Daylilies and lace-cap hydrangea

Daylilies and lace-cap hydrangea, 11X14, $869 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

When Colin Page asked me if Iā€™d paint for the 76th annual Camden Garden Tour, I said, ā€œsure, why not?ā€ Donā€™t ever tell him I said this, but Colin is such a nice guy that he makes one want to do nice things too.

Iā€™m not a painter of gardens. Theyā€™re one of the few landscape subjects I avoid. The painter canā€™t generally improve on what the skilled gardener hath wrought. Great gardens (as Merryspring Nature Centerā€™s are) are beautiful, but theyā€™re also neat. My natural inclination in landscape paintings is toward the scruffy, like me.

The contrast between the intense color in the foreground and the airy lightness of the great daylily bed at Merryspring appealed to me, even as I realized it would be a compositional bear and equally difficult to paint.

ā€œNever proceed to paint until you have a drawing you love,ā€ I tell my students. My problem was, I kept jabbering with passers-by. Itā€™s a small town and Iā€™m blessed with many wonderful friends. I didnā€™t finish my sketch until noon. Since I had to leave at 3 PM to get ready for the Camden Art Walk, it was time to fish or cut bait.

The featured artist for this yearā€™s Garden Tour is Cassie Sano, who has studied landscape painting with me on and off for several years now. My students are passing me left and right in their Cadillacs.

This canvas is certainly not overworked, since I finished it at warp speed. It was a good warm up for Camden on Canvas, which starts this morning.

I wonder where I could find some musicians to play for the Camden Art Walk?

As we do every year, Bjƶrn Runquist, Ken DeWaard, Eric Jacobsen and I started a last-minute text string debating where we should paint. Dithering is an important part of the plein air landscape painting process; after all, there might be something brilliant right around the corner.

But here in Camden thereā€™s not a single intersection or overlook that wouldnā€™t make the bones of a good painting. I know what Iā€™m doing, and I suspect the Three Musketeers do too. The good lord willing and the creek donā€™t rise, Iā€™m rowing out to Curtis Island on Friday and painting on Sea Street on Saturday. But double-check at the information kiosk on Atlantic Avenue just to make sure.

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How to pick a plein air location

Larky Morning at Rockport Harbor, 11X14, on linen, $869 unframed includes shipping in continental US.

Iā€™m thinking about Camden on Canvas and an impractical location occurs to me. Itā€™s a glacial erratic on Fernaldā€™s Neck. It would be long hike with a large canvas and my gear (although not nearly as onerous as painting from the top of Bald Mountain. Even when I get there, Iā€™ll be confounded by the composition, as itā€™s just a huge rock by the shore. However, itā€™s one of those subjects that always excites me when I see it, so this might be the year I do it.

Glacial erratic with my friend Marjean for scale.

The problem of choosing plein air locations is compounded when one is teaching or organizing an outing for a group. There are practical considerations that arenā€™t as important when Iā€™m painting solo.

At Rest in Camden Harbor, 12X16, oil on birch, $1159 unframed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Hereā€™s how I approach the question:

Does the view interest and inspire? Thatā€™s a moving target, but I look for places with interesting compositions and varied elements. That way thereā€™s something for everyone.

Howā€™s the lighting? I consider the time of day when itā€™s possible to be in that location. And, of course, at midday, I generally encourage people to down brushes and rest.

Is it accessible? This is far more important for a plein air class or an event where you have spectators than it is for solo painting. However, with big canvases come big equipment, and thatā€™s where park-and-paint can be very helpful. Thereā€™s a famous location in Schoodic thatā€™s now off-limits to groups. I never took mine there anyway; I judged it to be just too easy to tumble off that cliff.

American Eagle in Drydock, 12X16, $1159 unframed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Is the terrain negotiable? I donā€™t mean just for me, but for everyone in my plein air group. The best locations are ones where the agile can move out and explore, but others can paint from near their car.

Can painters set up chairs? I have a duff back, and I no longer stand to paint. I want a place I can sit, and where my students can set up chairs if they wish. Thereā€™s no shame in sitting to paint.

Whatā€™s the weather forecast? It behooves a plein air painter to know all the overhangs, bridges, gazebos and other places he or she can shelter from the weather. That includes the sun if itā€™s blistering hot as it will be this week. A contingency plan is a must. In Maine, mine is my own studio as a backup location. In other areas, it can be a rented hall.

Do you have permission? I will never forget being yelled at because other painters who were not part of my group had trespassed on private property. Make sure you have permission before you go on someone elseā€™s land. One of the hidden costs of my Schoodic workshop at Acadia National Park is the required permit (and a hidden cost for all my workshops is insurance).

Main Street, Owl’s Head, oil on archival canvasboard, $1623 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Leave no trace. If you brought it in, bring it out. Police your workstation before you leave.

Are there amenities? We all need restrooms, food, and water. While I can fend for myself, I need to be clear with students about their options before we arrive. Thereā€™s no Starbucks at Schoodic, and I hope there never will be.

Can I get help in the case of an emergency? If thereā€™s no cell-phone reception, I want to be within minutes of a ranger or a road.

Can we get away from the crowds? In Maine (and other popular destinations) thatā€™s not always possible, but I work hard to keep people out of the worst traffic jams. Some people like talking about painting, but others really want privacy in which to work.

Are there multiple points of interest? There are many plein air painting sites with one great view, but theyā€™re inherently less interesting than those with a variety of points of interest. Is there depth, with distinctive features in the foreground, midground and background?

I spend a lot of time scouting in the area in which I paint (and teach), usually with sketchbook in hand. You should, too.

The four locations in todayā€™s paintings are all places weā€™ll be painting during Painting in Paradise, here in Rockport.

Two openings this week:

Thursday, June 20, 2024, I’ll be at the Camden Art Walk, at Lone Pine Real Estate, 19 Elm Street, Camden, ME. That’s 5-7 PM, and the Art Walk is kind of a street party. It’s rather short notice, but I would love to see you there. Especially as my husband is threatening to bring his bass guitar and plunk away in the corner.

Friday, June 21, 2024, I’ll be at the Red Barn Gallery in Port Clyde, ME, from 4-7 PM for the opening reception of their first seasonal show, Barns. I’ll have three of them in the show, and my fantastically-gifted student Cassie Sano has taken my spot in the cooperative. I’m curious to see what she (and the rest of my friends there) is up to.

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:

Five plein air challenges to make you a better painter

Lobster Wharf, 8X16, oil on archival linenboard, framed, $903 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Here are five plein air challenges that will help us all loosen up for the summer painting season. Enjoy!

1. Limited Palette Challenge

Objective: Use a limited palette of only three five colors plus white.

In oils (or other solid media:

In watercolor:

Benefits: This challenge forces us to focus on color mixing, understand color relationships, and create harmony in our paintings. It also helps improve our ability to convey light and atmosphere with a simplified color range.

Regrowth and regeneration (Borrow Pit #4), 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

2. Time Constraint Challenge

Objective: Complete a painting in under an hour. Then do the same subject again in under thirty minutes.

Benefits: Working quickly encourages decisive decisions and helps us capture the essence of the scene without overworking.

3. Different Times of Day Challenge

Objective: Paint the same scene at different times of the day (morning, midday, evening).

Benefits: This challenge enhances our observation skills and understanding of how light changes throughout the day. It teaches us to depict different lighting conditions, shadows, and atmospheric effects.

Brooding Skies, 8X10, oil on archival canvasboard, $522

4. Weather Conditions Challenge

Objective: Paint the same scene in sunny, rainy, and/or cloudy conditions. (As they say, if you donā€™t like the weather, wait fifteen minutes.)

Benefits: Painting under different weather conditions pushes us to adapt to the changing environment and learn to represent different atmospheres and moods.

“Thunder Bay Freighter,” Thunder Bay, Ontario

5. Same scene, different subjects

Objective: After choosing your view, paint two different studies focusing on two different subjects within that view. If thereā€™s something in the view that youā€™d typically shy away from, try making it a focal point. (Except trash; nobody wants to look at trash.)

Benefits: This discourages us from trying to cram everything into a painting. It forces us to spend more time on composition.

Some quick tips for success

If you havenā€™t already done so, itā€™s time to set up your kit for summer. One of my resolutions for this year is to repack my kit every time I get home from a session, rather than fussing with it in the morning when I should be painting.

Spend time sitting with your scene before you start painting. The more you look, the better youā€™ll paint.

Consistency is key. The more you paint, the easier it gets. Don’t get discouraged; think of every painting, good or bad, as a learning opportunity.

Assuming all went well, I got back to Boston last night from my lovely, long, blister-inducing hike. Laura should still be running the office. Just email me as usual if you have questions or problems registering for a class or workshop. (Who am I kidding? She fixes all that stuff anyway.)

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025: