I remember last year, my plan was to blog through the whole Adirondack Plein Air Festival, and I think I managed one day. This year, a month has past since the event, and I'm just getting around to it now. Ah, how the unbridled enthusiasm of youth has faded... lol! I've just had a lot going on, but better late than never. So without further ado, the Adirondack Plein Air Festival Painting Extravaganza 2023.  

 

Monday: 

This year, because I started a new job with an accrual time-off system, I just barely had enough time to cover the four official days of painting. That meant that I worked on Monday and skedaddled as soon as I could to hustle over to Saranac Lake before 5 p.m., the check-in deadline. I missed a day of unofficial painting, but that meant I hadn't burned through all my energy painting and still had some to spend during the evening's opening soiree. I even had some energy for an afterparty nocturne party with fellow artist and new friend Mo Myra. We fed off each other's enthusiasm, and I stayed out way past my bedtime. I have a hard time at these things not slipping into an unhealthy "I can sleep when I'm dead!" mindset. But I slept in a little, so it's ok. 

 

Night 1 of the nocturne.

 

Tuesday: 

The theme of this whole week (nay — this summer!) was unpredictable rain. The forecast predicted a mix of rain and sun, and then rain, so I planned accordingly. For rainy/sunny days, a backlit scene works best for me because the contrast between the subject in the foreground and the light in the back stays relatively similar no matter what's going on with the sun (or lack thereof). 

 

I had heard of a horse barn on Paul Smiths' campus and envisioned being inside the barn looking out, with maybe some tack in the foreground. The barn was actually really small, and signs menacingly forbade entrance at peril of bad things. Also, the horses were nowhere in sight. Luckily, across the road was an open-air carriage house, and it turned out to be the perfect spot. This was arguably my best painting, which happened last year, too: the first was the best, and then it's all downhill from there... (Ha ha! Joking! Sort of...)

 

 

I peaked here, just like I peaked socially in second grade...

 

The afternoon's endeavor. 

 

Wednesday:

I was planning to venture to a fabled barn (because people want barn paintings!), but I got sidetracked with the delightfully brooding colors of a tree cemetery in the mist. Which turned to rain. Heavy rain. It was kind of hilarious in a bitter-laughter kinda way. Thankfully, I had two umbrellas, one for the art, and one for my head. My coat and lower half were goners, but not my shoes! (Plug for Amazing Waterproof Shoe Brand!)

 

The trees wept along with me. 

 

In the afternoon, I was done in from being battered by the elements all morning. The sun came out, so I found a parking place in which to dry out in my car and painted these two trucks, in honor of my dad, a classic car aficionado. An enterprising youth came almost as soon as I had started and spent the entire time mowing and week-whacking the grass. He was so thorough, though, I couldn't feel irritated. And then, toward the end, an older couple came and had a hilarious time trying to force each other into various photo poses on and around the trucks.

 

How could I resist that light?

 

Thursday: 

The forecast was "fair," which — surprise! — meant rain. But in my silly "go big or go home" mentality I sometimes slip into, I decided to set up on the busiest bridge leading into downtown. This was one of those sessions that felt like I fought the paint with every stroke. No matter how much white I added, the lights weren't light enough, and my proportions were way off. Not to mention the thundering reverberation of trucks roaring by and people honking (at least they shouted nice things, like "I love your art!" Still. I could have done without...). I sunk to that day's low point when the sky suddenly opened up and I crouched on the side of a bridge, protecting the painting with my umbrella while everything else got soaked. I eventually bailed and trudged, downtrodden, back down to my car. With such enthusiasm I had started! And then fell so far... 

 

The horror! The horror...

 

But in the evening, Mo and I finished our nocturnes, and she sold hers, so it was all worth it! 

 

Friday: 

By Friday, I was done in. (I had been commuting some days and staying in Saranac some nights. I stayed over Thursday, but realized — after all the care I had taken to remember all the frames and everything I'd need to hang art Friday — I forgot my overnight bag with all my personal effects. It wasn't that this ended my world; I just went CVS and got what I needed and found a nice, reasonably priced dress for the reception at a local store. But the feeling of being unmoored was almost overpowering. I haven't slept in my clothes in quite awhile.) 

 

Through this morass of psychological overwhelm, I muddled through Friday. In the afternoon, it was raining, so I set up in my car, hoping to capture the silvery reflections of the water on the road. And then the sun came out and it turned into a lovely day. Gosh darn it.

 

 

Oh well.

 

I dug deep into the arsenal of self-care and treated myself to Chinese food and TWO Mountain Dews. The collectors' preview was a blur, but I made it home safely, probably angering every motorist by driving 35 mph all the way home in the dark. (It was through the mountains! There was a bear, thank you very much!)

 

Saturday:

By Saturday morning — which featured rain — I was sort of in the whatever/what-am-I-doing-with-my-life mode. I found an awning to set up under, and reverted to a familiar, comforting scene for the two-hour quick draw event: a parking lot. Feeling a little weepy and bedraggled, I bumbled along. Despite the rain, however, the atmosphere was quite festive. There was some sort of race taking place nearby, so lots of people in tiny shorts with paper pinned to their shirts were powerwalking by. It was also farmers market day, which draws a crowd, so lots of people stopped to watch or talk. And finally I was saved by the Canadian motorcyclists. Cars had been parking in spots I didn't even know were spots and completely ruining my composition, until two motorcyclists from Canada cruised up and parked in a manner that effectively blocked any other car rear-ends from intruding upon my scene. Thank you, Canada.

 

 Comforted by a parking lot...

 

I gradually climbed out of my funk, and the five hours of the sale were actually not that bad. I mostly talked to other artists and sat on the sidelines, sipping Mountain Dew. By the end of the day, I had sold two paintings and won a prize, so the drive home could not be more different from last year after selling nothing and feeling drained by the prospect of a life of no sales. 

 

ArtWorks put on a great event again this year, and I'm very honored to have been accepted into the fold. After hearing about the week, my mom asked whether I would do it again. Honestly, I had a moment's pause. But it passed, and I can say with certainty: of course. Go big or go home (preferably having sold some paintings and not weeping...)! 

 

Someone was very glad when I finally stopped all that to-ing and fro-ing.