In the Spring of 2023, I found a perfect spot along the river to paint. The Corn Lillies were still small enough to step around them, and thread my portable studio around their (already) thigh high stems.  I’m still quite new at pastels en plein air, and quickly found that in Spring you need way more shades of green than you think. Mixing colours directly on the paper is an exciting way to work, as you’re weaving several colours together at the same time. This couldn’t not remind me of French Impressionists, and their direct working methods. The rushing river created it’s own cool breeze, small waves frothing and folding over themselves. I didn’t quite get to finish this, as wind and rain started so I had to quickly pack up and leave. That’s all part of the adventure of working outside though, and I’m starting to love it more and more

For me, painting is an act of slow looking and responding. The process is a gradual opening, a dilation of the mind. Intimacy with a subject comes from staying with it, and not succumbing to distractions.  A form of meditation, painting helps me embrace the transience of nature, and life.

When I try to grasp Autumn leaves, they lose their colour, and turn to dust. Wildflowers wither in my hand, river ripples distort and disappear. Embracing the ephemeral beauty of seasons and light has become a portal to my understanding of the ‘eternal now’.  Painting is a synthesis of experience, time and reflection. The slow unfolding of a fleeting moment.