Now I Know How Van Gogh Felt
It’s no secret that I absolutely love summer! Since I have returned to the isolation of my studio I have been working feverishly for the past month on my largest canvas to date. Because there isn’t air conditioning within the converted garage studio I am presently working outdoors.
I have finally completed the canvas which is ready to rock a wall somewhere, most likely the local venue where I have some of my other available painting puppies for sale, Mannino’s Italian Bistro, in Virginia Beach. If you aren’t a local, you can also view and purchase my works in watercolor and acrylic on the FAA website.
To return to my painting story, I enjoyed the sun’s rays, the birds’ tweets, looking up from my canvas to see a canopy of billowing clouds against a soft blue sky, the surprising sight of a gecko, the greetings from inquisitive neighbors, the sounds of nearby construction, and the music playing while painting ranging from Jack Johnson to Zac Brown Band. What I didn’t expect, however, was applying the final brushstrokes and being interrupted by a sudden gust of wind which took my easel as well as stretched canvas to the ground within seconds. I immediately thought of the trials that Van Gogh and Gauguin among others must have gone through while painting en plein air during the fall mistral, or heavy winds common to southern France. At least I didn’t have to inhale the fumes of poppyseed oil and tube colors or paint for endless hours underneath a blazing summer sun, so I took this mishap in stride, and went on with my life. I have decided that although there are some advantages to removing oneself from the studio once in awhile, it is probably best for me to paint indoors. That decision will be made for me soon enough when the nor’easters and the returning cold force me to say goodbye to another fleeting summer.
‘Boats at Burano’ by Kandy Cross, 2011