The first spot I drove to was along the river and the river was very high. So I drove down river. The river there was very low. ??? I’m pretty sure there isn’t a dam between the two spots. I’ll have to check. Scratching my head. Anyway, I drove around for an hour and a half looking at different locations. The locations on the river where I was were mostly mud flats and nothing to look at. Just horizontal bands of mud. Having wasted so much time driving I thought I’d break out the little brushes for something different (since it’s been on my mind lately). And since I wasn’t expecting anything from this painting I thought the worst that would happen was I’d throw it away. I aimed for reproducing what I was seeing as best I could. All I was going to paint was that space under the bridge and nothing else so I could spend my entire time just getting that part right. This is acrylic, 11×14″ on stretched canvas.

I have mixed feelings about this. Tightness always looks “right”… in a safe sort of way. It isn’t leaving questions unanswered or gaps for the viewer to fill in. It just is what it is. But it always looks right. These are as close as I could get matching the colors to what I was seeing. It would’ve been easier on a white board and with some black on my palette. I loosely scrubbed on that peripheral gray just to try and kill some of that yellow of the toned ground. It kept adding a lot of yellow to the appearance of my paint mixtures so colors on the canvas weren’t appearing as I was expecting them too. Ordinarily I’m not so concerned with it and my mind is in another place while I’m mixing. This still looks very yellow.
So the results are OK with me especially considering it wasn’t an all-at-once painting, but I didn’t like the process. This is the same problem I had with my studio paintings. I stopped enjoying the process of exactitude. Plein air painting saved painting for me because it forced me to let go of that and be looser and more confident. The changing light and weather granted me the freedom to not be bound to a given, static source.
If this was worth finishing it would require at least one more morning, possibly two. I’m not sure why anyone really tries so hard to paint this way. It was boring. It seemed pointless to keep trying to get that shadow color the exact color I was seeing. I kept scraping it off, remixing, repainting. Eventually everything just looked so gray to me, like the entire scene was variations on black. And over the course of my time working on it the light changed so much it seemed futile to continue. Usually I’m so into a painting that I don’t want to stop and I have enough adrenaline to keep on painting. Today I was happy to go home and wash my brushes.
By the time I stopped and snapped this photo all the color in the scene had dropped out. The overcast light was flat and everything was a dreary mid-winter umber gray.

Eagles kept soaring over me all morning. That’s always pretty cool.
