My #6 pleine air watercolor in 33 years.
Wondering about the odd post titles? They’re chapter titles to David Foster Wallace’ Infinite Jest. A novel of epic confusion and laughs. Never could have made it through if it weren’t for books on tape. The reader sounds a lot like DFW and is a pro with accents. It matters; each part is eight hours long and there are seven of them. It also helps to have spent a little time in a 12 step program. To understand what a crocodile or eskimo is, along with a plethora of program quotes whose true origins are never given proper credit. While I find music great for keeping rhythm during an uphill hike, books on tape are perfect for the studio. My eyes are free to work while my mind stays engaged with the narrative. Crown me.
Glad I had a little water color practice before Barbara scheduled our plein air gathering at the iconic South Pasadena Rialto theater. I dreaded it – icons intimidate. But trying to create a discipline around painting means that I drag my ass to where I don’t want to be at an hour I find objectionable. Sound like a 12 step meeting? Sort of. A desire to paint watercolors is all that is needed. And my sense of intimidation wasn’t underscored EVEN without depicting the Marquette side of the building. Here’s the thing, I like the work. I like the accordion perspective. That it looks like it could be the illustration for a children’s book. I like that it’s bright, quirky and cheerful. The left hand side is near perfect – the painting has soul. But the problem is, I keep thinking it’s not really me. Barbara mentioned something interesting, (besides passing on the recommendation to use yellow because people buy things that have yellow in them) that you lean towards those things your capable of doing; that you experience success at. But it may not be who you are?
What I’m thinking about.