Why I Plein Air paint

A few weeks ago, I stood at the site of the Lee Monument to paint what I saw - the graffiti that was plastered all over the statues. Within an hour, I'd painted a quick plein air of a historic moment as it took place. It was a moment where people of all races came together in unison to deface a monument dedicated to an oppressive regime. The Confederate sympathizers who run their mouths on Facebook, were too much of a pussy to get out and defend their precious statues. When I posted the image online, I didn't expect the feedback I got - NBC12 posted it on their page, close to 1000 shares in different groups, and a slew of requests for prints. I also didn't realize the backlash that would come from it. From a ton of 'Go fuck yourself' and 'You're a piece of shit', to 'Your art sucks' and 'Paint one with the n*ggers hanging from it'. It got pretty bad for a moment there.

When I looked out at the amount of people taking photos of the monuments, there was a part of me that wished they would just stop and take it all in. But I was no different. I took a few photos myself. Even though I was taking the photos for references to use in my work, I was no different. 

As a plein air painter, I enjoy getting out and painting what I see. I will often take the images I plein air paint back to my studio in Richmond and recreate it in high quality detail. 

Think about the countless pictures on your phone, and many of them, you may not even remember where you were when that photo was taken. You might remember something about it, but damn ... that one person ... I can't think of his/her name ... I think they were with us ... I don't even remember what was going on when I took this pic. 

But in a plein air painting, every detail is a decision, every color is on purpose, chosen to capture the spectacle of nature, creating a memory with each stroke. While I'm not discounting photography, (God knows I use reference photos daily) snapping hundreds of pics while the iPhone or android filters give the best view of what you saw, is easy to forget. There's no real process to it ... filtered snapchat pics that you share with your sidepiece, overexposed and enhanced digital images, point and click ... it's so easy to do. But a painting ... one simple plein air piece of a moment that can take an hour to do, forces you to remember whether you want to or not. 

You remember the environment, the mood, the emotion, and the moment you're recreating. Sometimes it's something complex, like a cityscape, while other times it's a waterfall off in the mountains that few will ever see.

It's a sunset on the mountains ... a sunset that, while countless others have watched and shared a special kiss from, very few created it as it was happening. 

It's the cows on the side of a random hill somewhere in a place we've all seen as we drove through the country.

It's a shed falling apart, with vines growing up the side, partially covering most of it. It's a place abandoned, forgotten, and lost to the memory of those who may or may not still own it. It reminds us of something from our past that we remember and miss, but are deeply glad that we've moved on from it. 

It's the story of an old General Store, that sits by itself, forgotten to time, and often overlooked by those who drive by it daily like a graveyard with decaying bodies. This will be an upcoming painting of mine.

It's a place that is common to us all that we know, but forget that it's still there. 

It's an escape ... a place that the artist can journey to day after day, and remember everything about it, and why it was so special to them. Some of the paintings above are not plein air paintings, but paintings I did from a plein air study. My purpose for doing a plein air painting is to potentially paint it into a Fine Art piece. I paint for me. If someone wants to buy it, that would be great. But if not, that's okay ... I paint the things I love, and the stories behind them, are the stories of me.