Painting outside is a great experience – despite bugs, weather, wind. There is something about painting while you are experiencing nature that is exhilarating – and different from painting from memories in the studio. While studio paintings might be technically better – plein air paintings capture the passion and energy of the moment. Much like the difference between seeing a play live and watching a movie.

My first painting for the Wyoming Paint Out is one that really resonates with me. I love the simplicity of the design and the ambiguity of the location. Although painted in Wyoming, it could be anywhere. It has that quiet, calm, lazy, soaking in the sun feeling of a hot summer day. Moments like these are what I live for: when time stands still, the body relaxes into the moment, the ears listen for the small sounds: grasshoppers jumping, birds singing, a cow calling in the distance…the almost indiscernible sound of grass drying in the hot sun.

Last Saturday I drove up to Cheyenne in the early evening, looking for a barn to paint at sunset. I found a barn, but no place to park. Plus rain clouds were rolling in…so I decided to head north on Warren Ave., which turns into Yellowstone Hwy. I drove north about 15 miles, through rain – but I could see clearing up ahead. The road went from 4 lane to 2 lane to little more than a wagon trail. I kept checking my gas gauge, which was getting a little lower than I like. Finally, I found a “crossroads” where I could pull over. Clouds were moving in, but it was sunny at the moment. I got out of the van and drank in the silence. It was so quiet I could hear the grass moving in the breeze. A hawk called out from somewhere in the distance. I imagined, as I looked east, that the landscape was probably very much the same as it had been 150 years ago.

My first painting was a 5x7of the trail as it led further north to a farm on the hill. But the desolation and freedom of the eastern view called to me. I grabbed a 16x20 canvas and as I started painting, the wind kicked up and the storm clouds darkened and drew closer. Drops of rain splattered on my arms and palette. I knew I was going to have to paint quickly so I grabbed the largest brush I had and painted the wind, the rain, the blowing grasses, the sage. Suddenly, on the horizon, the ridge lit up with the most amazing citron color! I finished the painting as the rain began to pour down.

On Sunday I drove up to Medicine Bow National Forest (between Cheyenne and Laramie) to spend the day painting. I took my little traveling companion, Jackson (half aussie, half jack Russell) with me for company. I was a bit nervous – going off to paint in an unknown place by myself, but I had a grand time. I could stop where I wanted, take whatever road I wanted, paint as long as I wanted. Jackson was happy just to tag along and agreed with all my choices! I tried several locations, but was overwhelmed by the scenery – big vistas with mountain backdrops, bogs with willows, aspens and pine trees (and lots of beetle kill), magical looking rock outcroppings, rolling hills, covered with prairie grass and sage, dotted with stands of aspens and pines.

It seemed like I just couldn’t settle in to painting. I was making mud. I can’t even remember now how many paintings I started and wiped off. Finally, in desperation, I grabbed a little square gessoed board and my palette knife and painted my impression of where I stood, a soft breeze at my back, the pungent smell of sage rising up around me, the air cool and crisp. This is what came out of that session, and I’m pretty excited by it!

I just returned a few minutes ago from the Link Gallery in Cheyenne, where I dropped off my three paintings that will be in the show – which opens tomorrow night. I was pleasantly surprised that my favorite of the three, “Medicine Bow Abstract” was also the favorite of Rebecca’s (the gallery owner.)