Centennial Park in Downtown Nashville was a three hour drive from my house. Before traveling for a wedding weekend, I realized I would have some down time while the wedding party, including Drew, attended to their details. I piled my painting supplies in my dark blue, well-worn backpack, and my husband dropped me at the park down the street from the church. “See you in a few hours!” he called as he waved from the parking lot.
Bustling with tourists and locals, the park buzzed with energy. Already a concert was setting up in the wide-open field. “That may not be the best spot for a painting. I’ll keep looking.” I thought. Slish slosh, clip clop were the sounds of all my paints and mediums bouncing around in my backpack.
At this point I know what curiosity and attention is drawn my way once I begin painting. Even in a creative city like Nashville, I was surprised at their astonishment to have a plein air painter in their park. After a few hours of painting, I sensed a human presence peering over my shoulder. When I turned around, they were abashed, turned pink, and exclaimed “Oh! I’m so sorry!”
“For what?” I asked, “Come have a closer look!”
I met an art student who intended to become a image designer for gaming, a school teacher who loved to draw everything he saw, two college students that wished me well on my creative endeavor, and a lovely woman who would blink and stare at the painting, and blink and stare harder… I hope she found the answer to whatever she was contemplating. I love to hear how many individuals are interested in art and may even have attempted to express their passion in their own creations. I am also saddened to hear how most of those people shy away for one reason or another from creating something truly amazing and unique to them. Some were discouraged from it, some were frustrated by it, and some looked like they could run away in fear at the very mention of the word “creative.” The reason for this dilemma is one I cannot solve.
Fortunately, there are ways I can counteract this loud voice despite its mysteriously illusive source.
I learned of a painter, Eric Rhodes, who is on a mission to turn a million people into painters. While en plein air, if a passerby approaches his easel exclaiming, “Wow! I could never do that!” He invites them to place a couple marks on his canvas replying, “Yes you absolutely can!”
I may not have the same goal to turn everyone I see into a painter, but I was inspired and challenged by this idea- to welcome others in to the process of creating. If you see me out painting and say, “I can’t do that!”
Beware, I will put the paint brush in your hands.
Admittedly, I struggled through the paintings I created on this outing. It took me until the last hour to create something I’m not entirely embarrassed to share with you. I hear that every artist experiences a few muddy paintings- not just amateurs, but the artists who make the front page of all the latest magazines and share their work internationally. Making mud means you tried something more difficult than before. You were on your way toward getting better. In the words of Vincent Van Gogh, “I am always doing what I cannot do yet so that I might learn it.”
Had I not continued on to create the painting you see in the picture above, I would not have come away with as many learnings. I would have been missing many interactions with people amazed simply by the idea of a person painting what they see before them. That is not to say a smaller attempt or painting for a shorter amount of time would not have been valuable. Rather, without the gumption to capture one more scene, I may not have realized how many other people need the courage to make mistakes as they also learn to pursue what’s important to them. No one, no matter how talented, starts out perfectly.