falsetto brush strokes

I shot that picture last Saturday. Dad was in the back corner of his studio packing extra paint for the Marceline event. (click here for more info on Nyle Gordon)

For his 51st birthday, I planned a trip to see him for a whole week. Between traveling to art shows, hanging his collection at various venues and teaching oil painting classes in two different cities, we found a week that would work. My dad is the hardest working man I know. So, it didn't surprise me when I flew in last Tuesday, to find that we had a full schedule ahead of us as well as a judged Plein Air Paint Out in Marceline, MO to end the week. Regardless of our many obligations, dad promised to make time for a practice run before the event. I was thankful for this promise for a few reasons: A. I have only done one (totally awful) plein air before this and B. Twenty-five other professional artists were going to be there and C. I can always learn from him. Long story short, I didn't have time to practice until the day before the competition. I set up in the front yard and you would think that I've never painted before. My easel kept collapsing on me, my painting fell in the dirt, I lost the my turpentine cap in a deep hole in the ground, (which was later dug out by dad with my pallet knife). Little winged creatures kept swooping in and sticking to my wet paint. I was a ridiculous mess. I was so used to the comforts and slow pace of my studio work. Let me just say, photo realism, unlike plein air, is indoors protected from violent winds and harsh sun rays. The best part of studio painting is that your subject is already cropped leaving you with a tidy preconceived composition to paint without shadows shifting on you. So, by the time I quit the practice painting I was panicked, and sun burnt but mostly panicked. That night, (the night before the event), dad sensed my frustrations and preformed quick demo while explaining tips as well as different natural light theories that he has found to be tried and true. Watching him made all this nature stuff make sense for the first time! Dad would burst into falsetto notes when he dabbed highlights onto little trees and bushes. My stress dissipated as we giggled watching him paint joyfully into the night. By 1am I forgot about my short comings with this whole plein air thing and instead I was reminded to thank the Lord for such a wonderful dad and incredible teacher. Thanks to dad, I wont quit Plein Air, not yet anyway. There are too many good things associated with this foreign concept to let it scare me away.  Eleanor Roosevelt said “You must do the thing you think you cannot do.” This idea is also encouraged by The Little Engine That Could... so it's legit. 

My Fourth Plein Air

Oil on Canvas board
8x10