I recently used up a week of vacation days near one of my favorite woodland haunts, where I challenged myself to get out and paint every day. Needless to say, it was both inspiring and exhausting, but by the end I had quite a little collection of pieces that ranged from “meh” to “hey, that’s not bad!” What I found the most helpful about having this uninterrupted week to explore painting locations and try new motifs was the time and energy to paint something, feel disappointed, think how to do it better next time, and then do it again, hopefully with more favorable results. 

 

During a normal week when I have to go to work, I may paint something, be disappointed, and think about how to improve upon it, but then it’s time for bed and the grind the next day. I’m sure on some level I’m incorporating and learning, but the payoff isn’t nearly as apparent or gratifying since it has to wait until the next paint session next week, by which time I’ve usually lost interest. 

 

Here are some of the initial boo-boos I made during Jennifer's Week of Fun and how I incorporated their lessons as the week progressed. 

 

The Waterfall.

 

 

While I do like this piece and had an awesome time painting it — I saw some river otters (!!!) and was photographed by hikers who thought my painting out there was “very special” — I was disappointed with it when I got home. It came out much darker than I anticipated. I surmise this was a combination of painting with strong, bright light behind me, which threw off my eyeballs, my own inclination to paint extreme lights and darks, and the sad reality that water-mixable oils tend to dry a little darker. I hope the paint scientists are working on that last one, and while I wait, I can try to adjust for the previous two.

 

The Mossy Rocks.

 

 

I love moss. For whatever inexplicable reason, I have always been drawn to these tiny little pillows of green goodness. Naturally, then, I am enamored with a certain location where the delta of a small brook as it runs into the river forms a mossy heaven of rocks and reflections. I tried in this piece to capture some of that bryophytic delight, but I think I dove in too fast and didn’t think about the composition enough. I was also panicked by the shifting dappled light, and responded by throwing globs of paint on in no particular order instead of working methodically, dark to light. The result was less than stellar and not a little disappointing.

 

The One for the Scraped Pile. 

 

 

Similarly, in another attempt at the mossy delta, I think I focused on rendering the details too much and not the overall composition. By the end, there were passages I liked, but overall, it was a disappointing composition that got scraped. 

 

The Grand Finale. 

 

 

The very last piece I did was deliberate, meaning no rudderless tromping through the woods waiting for inspiration to strike. I had an idea of a scene in my mind and I took pictures the day earlier so I could go home and plan in the evening. I sketched out the general shapes before I ventured out on the final day, and I brought along a value chart to remind myself to aim for a lighter value, even when I was inclined to go for my usual super-dark darks. The result, while not a masterpiece, was my favorite from the entire week, and I think it’s because I was a little more relaxed and confident as I painted since I knew where I was going and didn’t have to flail about. 

 

In sum, if I can remember to take all these steps in preparation to make it easier for myself, I might not be disappointed as much. That’s not to say that aimless wandering and spontaneous painting have no place, but maybe I can boost my success rate from one or two out of five, to one out of two, or even two out of three! But I for sure had a successful plein air painting week if I judge it based on the tongue-in-cheek criteria developed by some friends of mine: if you’re not exhausted and a little disappointed, you’re doing it wrong.