Finding the Timeless in a Peaceful Oasis
This certainly was a year when escape, nature, and space were an important part of finding a peaceful oasis. Adding fine art to fine living in nature was a wonderful experience this summer. I was fortunate to spend several days in a beautiful location, where I could unwind and enjoy the warmth of summer. The morning air was as sweet as gourmet dessert, and evenings had the songs of cicadas floating on light breeze. I had the pleasure of special days painting in the company of a snowy egret and fish that jumped out of still water. A pair of eagles and an osprey made appearances. Most afternoons, I sat in a kayak and studied the details of waterlilies rising and opening on the water’s surface or admired the stillness of my egret friend, as he waited for fish to catch. I had breakfast in the company of woodpeckers, hummingbirds, and goldfinches surrounded by jewel colors in summer gardens. I wish I had time to paint these gardens, but I focused on the water during this stay.
For years, I’ve been starting all landscape paintings on site. In short, this is a way to discover the soul of the place. The living experience is on a scale that is not possible to imagine in the studio. This has to do with looking outside the self and experiencing the treasure of life and sunlight moving throughout the day. I always like to photograph landscapes, but to paint a landscape is similar to speaking the words of a great poet. The larger view goes through the mind, and some of it becomes a part of me. It gives me a perspective of space, color, light, and life that I did not have before, and I could not form in isolation. At the end of this kind of connection, there is an object that is tangible, material. On a great day, painting is bliss, and bliss is in the painting. On a not so great day, unexpected things come up-wind, rain, etc., and that unexpected drama becomes part of the painting. Whatever arises, one has to believe, it’s good for the painting.
Painting often acts as a window, which is very present in plein air paintings, and the conditions that a painter is experiencing on location becomes an experience for the viewer. The view in the painting is as variable as the weather, and it has all the profound connections the artist experienced during the painting process. The imprint on the canvas becomes an exchange between the artist and the observer. Observers have their own personal experience in the time spent looking at the experience recorded on canvas.
A benefit to painting during travel is to return home with a piece of the special place captured in fine art. When these paintings are opened in the studio, a part of the location comes to life in my home. The sight of the paintings reawaken experiences of the sound of birds and open sensations of sky and natural space. I expand these sensations in the studio, as the paintings are brought to their finish.
In recent years, I’ve been working with themes of reflection and perception. The canvases painted by this lake are four parts of one view, from different times of the day. Two canvases are from the morning, and two canvases are from the evening. Painting began in the morning around 5:30 am and stopped about 9:30 am. Painting in the evening began at 4:30 pm and ended around 8 pm. I was able to fit a few smaller drawings in between these times. The canvases of blended time are now being finished in the studio.
A visit to a quiet lake can be a treasure, not only for escape, but also for balance. Sitting in a peaceful space becomes opportunity for processing the things that seem out of order, returning to a natural rhythm when everything seems chaotic, and reflecting on beautiful things when everything seems dark. I spent some time thinking over a massive tree that was submerged in the lake. The view reminded me of how many of us had great losses this year. It was a step into a larger perspective as I looked at the multitude of trees in radiant greens, growing around the lake. This place was a reminder of the time needed for goodbyes, as life continues to grow, and how much time is needed for healing. Morning light that shimmered in mists over the lake was a reminder that a new dream was beginning. Before I left to return home, I said thanks to the many animals here that shared their home and a slower pace of life with me. I doubt they understood me, but I will celebrate the beauty of their home in paintings.
