IT’S DAY SIX IN BIG BEND COUNTRY, THE FIRST DAY I’VE NOT BEEN OUT SKETCHING AND PAINTING WITH FRIENDS WHO ARE PLEIN AIRE ARTISTS. WHICH I, MOST DEFINITELY, AM NOT.
Or, at least, I wasn’t until this week.
How else, asked my friend Nancy Fly, “Can you go out, park by the road, look and paint, and not say a word for three hours, even though you’re easel-to-easel with others occupied in the very same way?” I’ve had a tough schedule teaching lately, and fighting a change-of-season cold. This was the last thing I expected to put on the calendar. But Nancy convinced me and here I am almost a week into it, gloriously scruffy with dust, alternatively hot and cold in the transitional desert clime, with pencils, sketchpad, and…
