I really needed this laugh! Those gamestoppers are priceless! I like to paint nocturnes, so I will sometimes go out at night and use a music stand light to light up my lapdesk. I was in a bad area one time and got so nervous about being mugged that I couldn't finish. No one has ever bothered me, though.
In March I persisted on a gouache painting that I should have abandoned. It was just above freezing, but shortly before sunset, in a valley by a creek. The light moves so fast at that oblique angle; I was chasing light, soon engulfed by shadow in the valley, which funneled freezing air to my location. The paint froze, I froze, it was an art disaster!
Yes!! I recently found a beautiful waterfall spot and eagerly set up, only to be besieged by tiny biting insects. I bravely put up with them for a while, but eventually I had to concede defeat. The bites are still itching after nearly two weeks!!
Well, you've had so many experiences during your long and fruitful career! #16 is a sad comment on humanity. Yet, you persevered through it all. I only tried plein-air work once when I sketched the Hadrosaurus statue (of course a dinosaur) in Haddonfield, NJ using an 'easel' kluged together from a clipboard and a microphone stand. I thought it was all over when it commenced raining -- but fortunately the weather cleared so I was able to finish. Otherwise, it was fun, and in my case the passers-by were quite friendly.
The worst I had was being confronted with a security guard who demanded I cease drawing or be thrown out of a mall because people might think I am a terrorist drawing a plan of the building.
My drawing was in perspective, with details like plants etc; and 10m further there are plans of the building hanging out with people taking pictures with their smartphones everywhere.
On a lighter note, another hard stopper was a hippo throwing dung at a zoo. I didn't get hit but never did I stop drawing so fast.
James, I've had many similar things happen to me as well, when out painting, and few more not on your list. But the most memorable was when I was painting a summer sunset out on a rural island back in the late '80s and about an hour in I heard a couple of shotgun shells being racked into a barrel behind me and a gruff voice saying: "Git offa' mah land!"
To be fair, I had hopped the fence line to get a better angle on my subject.
Didn't even turn around to look. Just lifted up the French easel with everything still on it and tossed it over the barbed wire, and then jumped over it myself. Slammed everything into the back of my hatchback and sped away. I think – but do not know – I heard the guy laughing.
These days, I wish I had turned around to look. Some farmers you don't piss off and ever since I make a point of asking before I cross a fence or ditch.
Another time, in another rural area, I did get permission from a disabled farmer who ran cattle on his upper pasture on a Century Farm. I wanted to paint an oak and the crumbling out-buildings near his house and would have to be on his property to do it. He gruffly told me it was fine so I went out to paint. Towards the end of the afternoon, unbeknownst to me, he let the cattle loose because it was feeding time and they all stampeded me because I stood between them and the hay. I fled the easel and came back ten minutes after they calmed down. Later, when I was buying eggs from that farmer on my way out he told me he turned them loose because he thought it would be funny. That time I did hear the laughing.
And finally, around the same time, I was painting an early morning urbanscape in a run-down warehouse district of Portland, OR. It was a lovely Sunday with sparkling sunlight and I was listening to opera at full blast on my earphones, getting into it as I worked. At some point I began to feel a prickly sensation on the back of my neck. I ignored it for a few minutes and kept painting, but finally turned around and immediately jumped back. There was a homeless fellow standing close enough to be breathing on me and he had a terrible bloody gash on his forehead. Thoughtlessly, I blurted out "Hey man, your head is bleeding!" and he raised his hand up to touch the wound. He looked down at his wet fingers and said "Whoah! I am." Then he looked back up at me quizzically before he shuffled off down the street without another word.
My heart racing, I vowed never to wear headphones again when painting outdoors and so far I haven't.
It ain't Disneyland out there folks. Pay attention. Be safe...😳
So many more opportunities for a gamestopper when painting than when taking a picture. Wow, drunken arm, friendly donkey, waterfall, angry nun - you’ve earned some cred!
I love that green building! When I was in Ireland in 2001 for a destination wedding we lost a tire to the curb on the left hand side because my ex wouldn’t listen when I said “too close, too close!!”
I really needed this laugh! Those gamestoppers are priceless! I like to paint nocturnes, so I will sometimes go out at night and use a music stand light to light up my lapdesk. I was in a bad area one time and got so nervous about being mugged that I couldn't finish. No one has ever bothered me, though.
My worst gamestopper was a eastern king brown snake rearing up saying hello to me whilst painting in the Australian outback.
My biting insects were here in Australia too… this country is challenging for plein-air!
Whoa!🥶
In March I persisted on a gouache painting that I should have abandoned. It was just above freezing, but shortly before sunset, in a valley by a creek. The light moves so fast at that oblique angle; I was chasing light, soon engulfed by shadow in the valley, which funneled freezing air to my location. The paint froze, I froze, it was an art disaster!
Yes!! I recently found a beautiful waterfall spot and eagerly set up, only to be besieged by tiny biting insects. I bravely put up with them for a while, but eventually I had to concede defeat. The bites are still itching after nearly two weeks!!
Well, you've had so many experiences during your long and fruitful career! #16 is a sad comment on humanity. Yet, you persevered through it all. I only tried plein-air work once when I sketched the Hadrosaurus statue (of course a dinosaur) in Haddonfield, NJ using an 'easel' kluged together from a clipboard and a microphone stand. I thought it was all over when it commenced raining -- but fortunately the weather cleared so I was able to finish. Otherwise, it was fun, and in my case the passers-by were quite friendly.
The worst I had was being confronted with a security guard who demanded I cease drawing or be thrown out of a mall because people might think I am a terrorist drawing a plan of the building.
My drawing was in perspective, with details like plants etc; and 10m further there are plans of the building hanging out with people taking pictures with their smartphones everywhere.
On a lighter note, another hard stopper was a hippo throwing dung at a zoo. I didn't get hit but never did I stop drawing so fast.
Wow
James, I've had many similar things happen to me as well, when out painting, and few more not on your list. But the most memorable was when I was painting a summer sunset out on a rural island back in the late '80s and about an hour in I heard a couple of shotgun shells being racked into a barrel behind me and a gruff voice saying: "Git offa' mah land!"
To be fair, I had hopped the fence line to get a better angle on my subject.
Didn't even turn around to look. Just lifted up the French easel with everything still on it and tossed it over the barbed wire, and then jumped over it myself. Slammed everything into the back of my hatchback and sped away. I think – but do not know – I heard the guy laughing.
These days, I wish I had turned around to look. Some farmers you don't piss off and ever since I make a point of asking before I cross a fence or ditch.
Another time, in another rural area, I did get permission from a disabled farmer who ran cattle on his upper pasture on a Century Farm. I wanted to paint an oak and the crumbling out-buildings near his house and would have to be on his property to do it. He gruffly told me it was fine so I went out to paint. Towards the end of the afternoon, unbeknownst to me, he let the cattle loose because it was feeding time and they all stampeded me because I stood between them and the hay. I fled the easel and came back ten minutes after they calmed down. Later, when I was buying eggs from that farmer on my way out he told me he turned them loose because he thought it would be funny. That time I did hear the laughing.
And finally, around the same time, I was painting an early morning urbanscape in a run-down warehouse district of Portland, OR. It was a lovely Sunday with sparkling sunlight and I was listening to opera at full blast on my earphones, getting into it as I worked. At some point I began to feel a prickly sensation on the back of my neck. I ignored it for a few minutes and kept painting, but finally turned around and immediately jumped back. There was a homeless fellow standing close enough to be breathing on me and he had a terrible bloody gash on his forehead. Thoughtlessly, I blurted out "Hey man, your head is bleeding!" and he raised his hand up to touch the wound. He looked down at his wet fingers and said "Whoah! I am." Then he looked back up at me quizzically before he shuffled off down the street without another word.
My heart racing, I vowed never to wear headphones again when painting outdoors and so far I haven't.
It ain't Disneyland out there folks. Pay attention. Be safe...😳
So many more opportunities for a gamestopper when painting than when taking a picture. Wow, drunken arm, friendly donkey, waterfall, angry nun - you’ve earned some cred!
Number 12 made my heart break!
I love that green building! When I was in Ireland in 2001 for a destination wedding we lost a tire to the curb on the left hand side because my ex wouldn’t listen when I said “too close, too close!!”