
As self-motivated creatives we are in charge of our own learning.
We choose classes with particular teachers, or buy particular magazines, or follow particular art-influencers on the socials. We decide how many hours we work, and we can also, deliberately, set ourselves learning projects as if we were our own teacher.

In reality we are learning all the time.
Like how meeting an exhibition deadline includes not just learning how to negotiate the gallery systems, create the paperwork, allocate dollar value to our creativity, etcetera ad infinitum, it’s also about recognising how our skills develop under pressure; how the necessary extra-pressured studio hours result in artwork that is more fluent than when there’s time to be tentative.

If the learning curve is steep; the results can be profound.
Vis-à-vis the aforementioned exhibition.
It’s too easy to just collapse in a heap when a challenge has passed. What gives it more value is to make a list; it recognises the magnitude, and cements the learning. Read these thirty five things I learnt when I went to Norfolk Island early 2020, which was a pivotal artistic experience for me.

It’s coming up to the Christmas Holidays again.
I love this time of the year. I’m planning my holiday which will be the similar to all the other Christmas holidays since my family bought the old beach house on the mid-north coast nearly fifty years ago now. Like all the other people who flock to the beach in January up and down the coast, this time is not-negotiable.

I do take a little project with me, just to assuage work-guilt
I try not to work when I’m at the beach; the year tends to run together if there’s not a break over the summer. (read more) Sometimes I have to though – like the year I had ten small acrylic paintings to complete, for delivery January 4 in Toowoomba. Or the time I added twenty or thirty of the “Remembering how to fly” miniature bird paintings to the series, ready for the exhibition later that year. Or when the putting together of the “Sense of Place” series (pictured) into their perspex boxes was much easier to do at the beach.

Last year I set myself a challenge that would combine holiday and work.
It would be learning and relaxation. I would fill my sketchbook with drawings and paintings of Hat Head, painted on site, every day. I would deliberately use differing media, styles, and materials. By the end of the sketchbook I would know more about how Plein air painting could move from a planning and prep integral part of my painting process,

The Process
Every day, depending on what else was happening, I’d take my sketching gear and whoever felt like coming with me, and set off somewhere in and around the village and paint. One day we circumnavigated the headland, stopping to paint at various places around. From this activity evolved the “Walk around the Garden” plein air workshop for adults, and the Step Away program for parents and children.

The Result
Each day it felt more normal, easier. I noticed an increase in accuracy, fluency and enjoyment. It was an excellent way to really drill down to the experience of this time at the beach. It gave focus and a very legitimate reason to sit and enjoy the absolute joy of the Aussie beach summer. Which, I might add, included not the traditionally picturesque, but also the sort of ridiculous amusement of watching the Pitt St Cowboys lining up, in their freshly minted 4WD, to try to cross the sandhills for the obligatory beach driving component of their holiday.

Would I do it again?
Absolutely !
Did I learn things ?
More than I can list.
Would I recommend it to my friends?
In a heartbeat.
Grab a sketchbook folks, and go and find a tree to sit under: it’s one of life’s great pleasures.
Holidays can be all things to all people – even if sometimes it’s technically work.

Grab a sketchbook folks, and go and find a tree to sit under: it’s one of life’s great pleasures.
Holidays can be all things to all people – even if sometimes it’s technically work.
---My Plein Air Kit---










