playing with [plein] air

oil painting what i see on Mexico's south coast

i’ve got sand everywhere and i’m constantly sweating, but my heart is starting to hum. i am currently on a creative sabbatical to develop a body of plein air works. about eight years ago, i studied classical figurative oil painting on Hawai’i island, and since have been dabbling with abstracts and landscapes while also slogging through the nine-to-five. i have the chance now to study and paint by the sea full-time - a wonderful (and daunting!) opportunity.

i arrived about a week ago and have been getting acquainted with the neighborhood, scouting local painting spots, and trying to stay hydrated in the heat.

the first time i set up to paint, i found that my new plein air palette had cracked en route. i then discovered that the solvent-free, plane-safe “solvent” i brought does not work for my process. apparently, my first task would be finding the hardware store.

behind a sheet of plexiglass, i fumbled through requesting turpentine and, after a bit of mutual confusion (google translate had told me la trementina) the hardware store team found me some el aguarrás. we shared a laugh, and after sliding a few bills through a tiny hole, i walked back into the sun with my treasure.

the heat/humidity combo here adds another layer of challenge. we’re PNW folks coming from Seattle, and are not at all accustomed to the “feels like 100°F” weather. my cousins used to tease me for being the only kid who got heat stroke on summer lake days. ironically, i still crave the sun, even though i’m pretty sensitive to it. luckily, the early morning and golden hour times are cooler - and best suited for painting the light.

later in the week, i taped my palette back together and ventured to the beach with my tripod easel. my first time being there, i didn’t expect such a lively scene. kids were bobbing at the shore while their families gathered at umbrella-covered tables to gab over drinks. i soaked it all in while setting up, feeling a bit self-conscious about attempting my first plein air session with so many people around.

thankfully, digesting the scene distracted me from overthinking - how was i to capture the fishing boats, restaurants, thatched roofs, people and trees? how could possibly i portray the bustle of this stunning eve? i took a breath, wiped the sweat from my upper lip, and began painting.

almost immediately, two local tweens approached and shyly asked to take a picture. they made a heart with their hands, said thank you, and scurried away. later, a small boy, maybe four, wandered up and gazed curiously at the bright red paint. he asked me something i couldn’t understand, so i smiled and said, “lo siento, no comprendo.” he looked puzzled, like he had never come across an english speaker before, then dashed back towards the ocean, leaving me grinning at my palette.

i didn’t capture the scene brilliantly, but i felt a surge of delight while trying. after an hour, the tide began teasing closer to my supplies. i quickly disassembled my gear and hoped my makeshift wet painting carrier of cork slices and buckle straps would protect the painting on the scooter-ride home (it did, kind of).

week 1: i’m in need of electrolytes and the mosquitoes have feasted upon my ankles, but i am quite smitten.