Downsizing

I’ve been doing a lot of plein air (outside) painting this month, which has meant working on smaller pieces. I tend to think of these as studies or meditations, depending on my mood. An 8x10" takes about an hour to flesh out, an 11x14" twice as long, which is about all I’m up for. Usually by then the sun - if not my patience -  tells me it’s time to wrap it up, and then it’s back to the studio for review and possible tweakage.

This quickie habit has led to my doing more 5x7" studies in the studio, often started on raw canvas, alleviating any need for getting tight or precious. If it works, great. If it doesn’t, it hardly makes a sound as it flips off into the trash bin.

This downsizing of effort has helped me keep things in perspective. I’m not after some grand something. I’m not diving into a huge commitment. But it serves a purpose: I'm learning, and as Cyndi Lauper would say - sometimes I just wanna have fun!

I recently finished Paris in Ruins about the birth of Impressionism after the Franco-Prussian War, and found it fascinating that such light-filled, breezy paintings could emerge after such horrific times. But today I think I understand it better: When you’re forced to live with heaviness day after day, it makes perfect sense to long for a world where the choices are smaller, the stakes quieter, and the experience lighter and soothing. Maybe that’s part of what art can offer — not denial, but a small place to breathe.