Blog

I started my ‘career’ as an oil painter by joining a local group of hardy outdoor painters in a local park. They pack up their portable easels and go out every Saturday morning, rain or shine. Blizzard or rainbows. I swear some of them are masochists who get even more pumped when the weather is just horrible. Some would even brag and point with pride at the scuff marks and dirt on their paintings where their whole setup got blown over…or “here’s where the bird crap was that I scraped off…” or “it looked a lot better before the sleet started!”

Now mind you, this is Michigan, and this is winter. There are at least a few people I know who just love this weather – but only a few. The rest of us sane people, well, there’s a reason why we flock south and west this time of year!

Nonetheless, I tried to hang. I took note of their Carhartt overalls and jackets. Their deep, fur-lined hoods. Their flip-up mittens that exposed bare fingers. 

I bought battery-operated socks that promised to keep my toes warm. 

Hah! 

I carried Hot Hands, the chemical pouches that promised to keep my fingers toasty. 

Hah!

I had so many layers of down on I tottered along like the Michelin Man. It was kind of hard to even bend down enough to set up my tripod and paints.

But I tried. I told myself that if I could just Get Into The Zone I would lose track of how cold I was and let my creative juices keep me warm and comfortable.

Hah!

So this past weekend, I thought about trying again. Shoot Pat I told myself, you’ve got all the fixins a good plein air painter needs, toughen up! It was a crisp, sunny morning, almost painfully bright. So I packed up my stuff and ventured over to the park. I chuckled when I couldn’t find a single other intrepid painter. Hah! I’m so bad ass I thought - those wimps! So what if it’s only 10 degrees? It’s beautiful out!

I drove around, and found a view I liked. I got out. I started to shlep my gear and get set up. As I trundled to what I thought was a good spot my heel went out from under me on the ice and I barely avoided an epic wipeout. The wind was slicing my face like shards of glass. It was so bright I had tears rolling down my face which of course fogged my sunglasses. 

My resolve was disappearing fast.

I tried to kid myself, but the truth quickly won out: I am a weenie at heart. 

I got back in my car!

I turned the heater up, turned the radio on, pulled out my sketchpad and made do from my comfy seat.

And I’m ok with that! You guys can stand outside and paint. I’ll wave as I pass by!