spent a month on Sanibel Island, Florida and had a chance to join a weekly painting group there. While most of the participants in the weekly plein aire painting sessions were old enough to vote several times, there was an earnestness and eagerness about the group that reminded me of some classes for teenagers that I have led.
After the outside painting session, we would retire to the clubhouse where a critique was led by a retired architect. The pearls of wisdom were always very kind, and as far as I could see, utterly useless to these amateur artists whose work was stood up against the wall. On some occasions, I felt like it was the artists who should have been stood up against the wall. Unfortunately after a hot outside session, there was no bar and only lady-like thermoses of lemonade appeared.
The painting of mine that joined one Tuesday line-up caused a good deal of consternation, because, as a frail mid-western lady pointed out, “He didn’t paint the view.” My idea of looking down at the beach rather than looking out at the view did not seem well, attractive to her. Although a reasonably straight forward rendering of the sand beside my easel, this acrylic does have a somewhat abstract quality.