While I know how important it is to be able to paint with abandon, to have a loose and painterly touch, I struggle to allow myself to do that. The above is an example of me trying. I started with very diluted oils, lots of turps, drips running down the surface (I hate to have paint everywhere, so I first had to put towels under the panel to catch the runoff.). Then I tried going in with rough brush marks, no blending if I could help it. In the end, I would never want to hang it on the wall, but I guess for me it will take baby steps - lots and lots of baby steps.
Everyone in my plein air group decided to bail out this past Friday - imagine, a little rain in Oregon! But not wanting to ruin our perfect record, I wandered out on my own and plastered a quick little piece beside the Tualatin River, under a small but dry cover at the river's edge. I still appreciate the practice in trying to find the rich color provided by the overcast sky. We live in a very green world in these parts.
But the bulk of my painting time this week was spent on portrait sketches, a few of which are below. I can't think of any other pursuit for which I can find such an endless reservoir of patience; if this were any other endeavor, I would have given up long ago, and yet I find that I remain dogged, for some reason, in my attempt to improve at this painting thing. The progress feels so very slow in coming, like pitch leaking from a wounded pine tree, but I'm still looking for...what, some retsina to be made from all this effort?
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