I painted this in ’03 en plein air (in the open air). I don’t particularly like to go painting alone (in case a grasshopper hits me, and I need resuscitation), but on that day, I trekked up the side of a nearby hill, and set up shop. It was a beautiful day as you see, in fact, so beautiful that I had sent my son to school not feeling well, determined that I was going to paint, and a little pneumonia wasn’t going to stop me from creating a masterpiece.
It was all going swimmingly, and I was pretty much to the point you see here, when suddenly an evil little wind picked up. Just as I was concluding I might need to pack it in, a gust hit me whisking my plastic bag full of dirty rags away. I managed to stomp on it with my foot about a yard from my easel. That’s when the easel began to blow over on me threatening to make me wear my new landscape. I grabbed it in the nick of time still holding down the plastic bag. That’s when the palette started to go. I was able to switch one hand from the easel to the palette, but that’s when my cell phone rang. Don’t forget my son was at school sick. I had to answer the phone or win the Bad Mommy Award. I must have looked like I was playing the game Twister. Although the view I painted was devoid of homes, there was an entire neighborhood behind and below me. I imagined people standing there at their backdoors, coffee cup in hand, going “hey, get a load of THIS”. What fun the people must have had at my expense. For the longest time I expected to show up on America’s funniest home videos. By the way, it was not my son calling, but rather the bank calling to talk about a loan application.
Me and plein air painting got a ways to go.