Author: Carol L. Douglas

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Monday Morning Art School: why loose brushwork in painting?

Ravenous Wolves, oil on canvas, 24X30. For more information, click on the image.

There have always been painters who embraced rough, broken marks. However, at the end of the 18th century, painters like Francisco Goya and J.M.W. Turner began a permanent break from the polish of strict academic painting. Where did loose brushwork in painting come from, and is it still relevant today?

A quick note before we get into it

Claim your spot in Painting Water, Monday evenings or Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026, which is today.

This is my last Zoom session until I get back from Sedona Plein Air at the end of October. That’s because I’m teaching and eventing non-stop until then.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

Brooding Skies, 8X10, oil on archival canvasboard, click on image for more information.

The Industrial Revolution

The 18th and early 19th century saw the development of steam power, textile mills, canals and railroads, making muscle much less important. At the end of the 19th century, electricity, petroleum, steel, chemicals, telecommunications and the internal-combustion engine were introduced. That gave us assembly lines, automobiles, electrical grids, telephones, skyscrapers and mass consumer goods.

The second half of the 20th century brought computers, electronics, telecommunications, robotics, satellites and the internet. Now we’re grappling with artificial intelligence, machine learning, cloud computing, sensors, robotics, biotechnology, autonomous vehicles and, of course, the Internet of Things. Rapid change makes us edgy, but it’s important to remember that those prior phases had the same effect on the people who lived through them.

Art responded to each phase of the Industrial Revolution in unique ways. But with each of them we saw more of the artist and less of the subject in artwork. Visible brushstrokes said, “this was made by a human,” in a world which felt increasingly standardized.

In Control (Grace and her Unicorn), 24X30, $3,478 framed, oil on canvas, includes shipping in continental United States.

Impressionism and plein air painting

Plein air painting was an important part of Impressionism . Because conditions outdoors shift so fast, plein air painting rewards economy. Plein air painters learn to ‘set it and foret it.’ That produces fresh, economical marks.

Plein air painting is the biggest and most influential painting movement of my lifetime. Its mark-making isn’t going out of style any time soon.

Modernism

Modernist painters increasingly treated the painting as an object in itself, rather than a reflection of reality. Painters like Paul Cézanne and Vincent van Gogh used brushwork to create both emotional tone and structure.

Modernism emphasized subjective vision over realistic representation. The disillusionment and anxiety of the 20th century, with its endless wars, meant that this vision was often fragmented, dark and distorted. In Abstract Expressionism, loose brushwork often was the subject.

Photography

Once photographs could record appearances with accuracy, painting lost its practical purpose, which had been to record people, places, ideas and events. Painters were forced to ask, what can I do that a camera can’t?

Loose brushwork was one answer. This helped shift painting from representation into interpretation.

Certificate of authenticity

Your brushwork is as individual as your handwriting. It’s one thing technology can’t (yet) duplicate. And it’s why we value loose brushwork in painting more than ever; the physical act of painting is imbedded in the work.

Brushstrokes record movement, speed, pressure, hesitation and decision, just as handwriting does. It has become a dominant part of modern style; we recognize the person in the mark.

Brushwork signals confidence

Bravura brushwork suggests decisiveness, mastery, speed, physical engagement, risk and freedom. These are things our culture values, so we find loose brushwork in painting far more exciting than carefully-blended marks (although there is room for both in a good painting).

Athabasca River Confluence, 9X12, click on image for more information.

Looseness isn’t the same thing as good painting

Bravura brushwork only works if the painter knows what each stroke is meant to accomplish. Otherwise, it’s mere sloppiness.

Loose brushwork has to sit on a base of careful drawing, good composition and well-considered color. Great painters with flamboyant brushwork have a wealth of technique supporting their apparent spontaneity. They know proportion, value, edges, color relationships, anatomy, perspective and composition well enough that they can hit the right mark on the first strike (which is what alla prima means).

The big question

If looseness is now the language of serious painting, is there still anything rebellious or exploratory in being loose? Does looseness still matter in the 21st century? For me, the answer is yes but I leave you to make that choice yourself.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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Plein air painting waste and the plastic bag ban

Intrepid painters at Wahconah Falls State Park (Berkshires workshop).

In the old days, my highest-rated blog post was this essay on folding plastic bags to fit in your kit. (Now it’s this debunking of tetrochromacy; don’t ask me why.)

Today, 12 states have plastic-bag bans: Maine, Vermont, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Colorado, Washington, Oregon, California, and Hawaii.

My county was an early adopter, and I supported the plastic bag ban. Not because it cut down on plastics; grocery bags comprise a miniscule part of America’s plastic consumption. I was sick of seeing bags hanging from trees, fences and shrubs. The prevailing winds in coastal Maine blow towards the ocean. Sea urchins, jellyfish and the other denizens of tidal pools don’t need to be dodging plastic bags.

However, I’ve noticed in recent workshops that my students have a harder time dealing with plein air painting waste now that plastic grocery bags are less plentiful.

Alicia made a beautiful painting in a real Ashcan School setting (Berkshires workshop).

Short weekly class session starts next Monday

Claim your spot in Painting Water, Monday evenings or Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026, which is next week.

This is my last Zoom session until I get back from Sedona Plein Air at the end of October. That’s because I’m teaching and eventing non-stop until then.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

My city-slicker student Jackie wasn’t keen on the chickens, but they seemed to love her! (Berkshires workshop)

BYOB (Bring Your Own Bag)

Obviously, we want to carry in, carry out. We’re stewards of the landscape, after all.

I don’t like the lightweight trash receptacles that are meant to hang from your easel. They’re heavier and bigger than a plastic bag. Emptying them in a trash can may be no big deal in Manhattan, but it’s a pain in less civilized areas. They tumble around in your car until you empty them. That’s an opportunity to get paint on the upholstery. Then you have to fold them and remember to put them back in your kit.

Washable reusable bags put pigments into the water stream. Paper bags leak. The humble plastic bag remains the most practical answer, but in the bag-ban states, we have to buy rolls of 1-gallon trash bags. I’ve resigned myself to it.

Linda tried to take a pig home with her after she painted its portrait (Berkshires workshop).

Trash is tough if you forget the bag

Without a trash bag, plein air painting waste can be difficult to manage. Used paper towels and rags accumulate quickly. There are foul, sticky palette scrapings, bits of tape, plastic gloves, sandwich wrappers, tissues and other trash.

I’ve been forced to tuck dirty rags into my pockets. Worse is to set them down until you pack up. They get paint on the ground and can blow away. A dirty paper towel isn’t just unsightly litter. Pigments shouldn’t be added to the landscape.

One of the pleasures of plein air painting is that you develop an intimate relationship with a particular piece of land. That means you also notice the garbage. I hike daily and find coffee cups, soda cans, dog poop, candy wrappers, tissues, etc. along the trail.

Your painting kit should contain everything you need to make the painting and everything you need to pack up and leave no trace. We are guests in the landscape. Our goal should be to leave our little patch of earth looking as we found it, if not better.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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What artists can learn from beginners

Grey Birches, 8X10, oil on archival canvasboard, for more information, click on image.

I have two painting students, PhDs in chemistry and electrical engineering. One is a novice acrylic painter; the other a more-advanced watercolorist. In recent months, they’ve been emailing about blue, not in the artist’s way, but the scientist’s. (I’m just following along.)

Among other things, they’ve demonstrated that some blues’ chroma increases when you add a little white. That flies in the face of conventional wisdom, which says paint will never be more intense than it is straight out of the tube.

I suppose thirty more years of looking at blue paint and I’d have drawn the same conclusion, but they’ve bypassed that painful learning process. This has immediately changed how I paint.

Meanwhile, a student from last week’s Schoodic workshop sent me a note about the watercolor skills he’s developing. What interested me was what he has learned from teaching beginners in a volunteer parks program. “Some of my best basic skills teachers,” he wrote, “are the novices I help.”

Maine Coast, 8X10, oil on archival canvasboard, for more information, click on image.

Short weekly class session starts next Monday

Claim your spot in Painting Water, Monday evenings or Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026, which is next week.

This is my last Zoom session until I get back from Sedona Plein Air at the end of October. That’s because I’m teaching and eventing non-stop until then.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

Beginners aren’t burdened by what they think they know

My student noticed that the novices he worked with were unconcerned with detail. They weren’t adding every rock, tree or branch because it was in front of them. They weren’t trying to reproduce the entire landscape.

That reminded him to reconsider the fundamentals of his own work. Were the values correct? Was the drawing accurate? Was he making decisions about composition, or simply recording what was there?

Off Pearl Street, 8X10, oil on archival canvasboard, for more information, click on image.

What artists can learn from beginners

I have formal instruction from the Art Students League and elsewhere. But the hours I’ve spent teaching have taught me as much or more. By having to explain technique, I’ve internalized it. By having to answer questions, I’ve researched things I knew nothing about. By listening, I’ve learned. Adults will challenge you when you’re vague or wrong. That’s a very good thing.

Am I too old to learn to paint?

On Monday, a woman watching me teach in the Berkshires told me, “I always wanted to paint but I’m too old.” She was my age, but she didn’t believe me when I said it wasn’t true.

I felt the same way when, at 38, I pivoted into a full-time painting career. Thirty years later, I’m very glad for all the other experiences I brought into my art career.

Every adult learner wonders about whether they left it too late. However, they come to art with knowledge and experience that an 18-year-old can’t understand. All of it translates into their art, whether it’s an understanding of process, years spent working with their hands or 10,000 miles trekking through nature. Adult learners take the long view; they don’t expect immediate excellence. That gives them the patience to not quit when painting seems daunting.

Thomaston, ME, 14X18, oil on archival canvasboard. Click on image for more information.

Quirky self-expression

One of the last week’s students made some very unusual paintings. Her work was very detailed for conventional plein air painting, which tends towards speed and freshness. However, it had a magical folkloric quality. That raised a discussion of why we value looseness in the first place, and why it’s important for teachers to not force students into the teacher’s style.

We don’t have to imitate another painter’s choices to learn from them. Sometimes the most useful thing another artist can do is challenge our assumptions about how painting is supposed to work.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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Monday Morning Art School: painting solvents and mediums

Clary Hill Blueberry Barrens, watercolor on Yupo, ~24X36. Click on image for more information.

“Painting mediums are like steroids,” I told my students at last week’s workshop. “They’re invaluable when necessary, but deadly when misused.” What are all those solvents, mediums, oils, gels, retarders and flow improvers, anyway? What do they actually do?

One thing painting solvents and mediums can do is create more problems than they solve, when not used correctly.

Short weekly class session starts next Monday

Claim your spot in Painting Water, Monday evenings or Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026, which is next week.

This is my last Zoom session until I get back from Sedona Plein Air at the end of October. That’s because I’m teaching and eventing non-stop until then.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

Main Street, Owl’s Head, oil on archival canvasboard. For more information, click on image.

What is the difference between solvent and medium?

Solvent is the liquid that dissolves paint to make a solution. In oils, the solvent is usually odorless mineral spirits (OMS). In acrylics and watercolors, the solvent is water. Solvent is used to thin paint and clean brushes.

Painting medium changes how paint works and dries. It can speed up or slow down drying time, make paint thick or thin, add gloss or matte shine or create special textures without breaking the paint’s bond. Let’s look at these separately for each medium.

Oil paint

Oil paint already contains siccative (drying) oil, in which the pigment is suspended. You don’t need to add anything to make it work.

Solvent (OMS) is useful only in the early stages. Use it sparingly. It makes paint flow, but as it evaporates, it leaves a film of dull, oxidized pigment.

Linseed, walnut and safflower are siccative oils, and they dry by oxidation, not evaporation. They are the base for all oil paints and make paint more fluid, transparent and glossy. However, excess oil can soften edges and layers excessively, leading to overmixed paint and future problems with drying and cracking.

Mediums and gels are made by adding drying agents, solvents and varnishes to those oils. These mixtures are designed to change paint handling, making it more fluid, buttery, transparent or to speed up or slow down drying.

Students should always learn to paint with straight paint first and then add either medium or oils only as necessary. You need to know what paint itself can do before you start modifying it.

Rachel’s Garden, ~24×35, watercolor on Yupo, museum-grade plexiglass. For more information, click on image.

Watercolor

Watercolor is wonderfully uncomplicated. Add more water and paint becomes more transparent and fluid. Add less and you get stronger, more concentrated color.

There are additives for watercolors, such as ox gall (flow enhancer), blending medium, granulation medium, pearlescent medium and texture gel, but these are optional, not necessary. If your watercolor isn’t behaving, the answer isn’t in a bottle; it’s in your water-to-pigment ratio.

Acrylics

Acrylics dry by evaporation and form a plastic film.

Water can thin acrylic, but excessive dilution can interfere with the paint’s binder and produce a weak film; most guidelines recommend staying under 25–50%. If you want very fluid paint, use an acrylic medium.

Acrylic gels change the body and transparency of the paint. Soft gel, heavy gel and other formulations make paint thicker, thinner, more transparent, or more dimensional.

Retarder slows acrylic’s drying time. This is very useful for plein air, when acrylics can be frustratingly fast-drying. The ‘right’ amount varies depending on temperature and humidity. Too much retarder can interfere with drying and weaken the surface. If you find you’re always using retarder, consider switching over to a product with retarder built in like Golden Open Acrylics.

Evening in the Garden, 9X12, oil on archival canvasboard, for more information, click on image.

Every additive changes your paint

If you’re constantly adding solvent, oil or gel because your paint isn’t doing what you want, the problem isn’t the paint; it’s how you’re using it. You may need to wet (activate) your watercolors more thoroughly before you start painting. You may be trying to drag new life out of dried-out oil paint. You may need to learn how to keep acrylics open in the field. How do you learn these things? It seems to me a workshop is a good place to start.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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Stop copying in your landscape painting

Lynda Mussen is a regular for this workshop, and her painting is better every year.

Overlooking the Mt. Desert Narrows of Frenchman’s Bay (as we have been this week at my Schoodic workshop), the temptation is to simply copy what’s in front of us. That’s understandable. The scene is sublime, the birds are warbling, the ocean rolls ceaselessly towards us. Surely Nature is in charge of what to paint.

Nope. Nature is giving us raw material, not a finished composition. What’s there is too vast to capture in any one landscape painting. (That’s why your vacation snapshots are often so disappointing, by the way.) We must edit and compose ruthlessly, or our viewers will be left starved of the feeling of the place.

When I teach plein air workshops, students often ask whether they can change something. They’re tentative about moving a tree, eliminating a line of spruces or shifting Cadillac Mountain a little to the left. This is especially true of new painters.

Frank Costantino did this wonderful sketch of Cynthia while she was painting.

A quick note on weekly classes before we get into it

Claim your spot in Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings or Painting Water, Monday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026, and they’re filling up.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

There are two answers to this question.

  • Even people intimately familiar with the place won’t notice the edits in your landscape painting. They react to the sense of place, not the details.
  • The sun is going to rearrange everything in your composition anyway, so why worry about moving a tree?

The landscape is not static. Shadows march across fields. Clouds drift overhead. Tide rises. Wind whistles. Boats glide through your carefully composed picture. The color temperature changes as the day winds through its courses.

Even photography isn’t objective. Every camera lens has a different focal length and field of view, and is set for different apertures and exposures. This changes how the camera records a scene as much as the painter’s eye does.

Karolina almost finished with her painting of the rock faces of Schoodic.

Your job is to organize visual chaos into something coherent.

How you organize your landscape painting is far more important than whether you’ve placed the rocks in exactly the same place that Nature did. You’ll hold the viewer’s eye when he or she can move naturally through the picture. That depends on the value structure, whether the color relationships feel convincing and whether the painting captures the experience of standing there. I’ve written extensively on the science behind this, starting here and here.

How do we do that?

Sometimes that means simplifying, sometimes it means exaggerating, sometimes it means leaving things out altogether.

The great landscape painters have always edited reality. The Impressionists used optical mixing to simulate the real glitter of light. The Hudson River School rearranged mountains and rivers to strengthen composition and make their point about America’s destiny. Even painstakingly realistic landscape painters like Rackstraw Downes are constantly deciding what deserves attention and what doesn’t.

Frank and Aaron, hard at work.

Is this dishonest?

Of course not. It’s the very essence of painting.

Imagine reading a novel that recorded every conversation, every meal, every minute of every day exactly as it happened. That’s À la recherche du temps perdu by Marcel Proust, and it’s excruciatingly dull. Writers edit to reveal meaning, and painters should do exactly the same thing.

Instead of asking, “How do I paint what I see?” ask what attracted you to this scene in the first place. That’s the painting; everything else is just border work.

Once painters stop trying to copy every leaf and stone their work becomes more believable. The painting has structure, intention and a clear visual hierarchy that viewers can enter into.

Your job is to interpret the landscape, not copy it.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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Ticks and the plein air painter

No ticks on the beach! Janet and Tricia told me the lint-roller secret to removing ticks from your dog and clothes.

“Are ticks as bad as the article in the New Yorker made them out to be?” a student asked me as she prepares for next week’s plein air workshop in the Berkshires.

Yes, ticks deserve respect. No, they shouldn’t keep you from painting outdoors.

If you live in the Hudson Valley (as she does) or anywhere in New England or the mid-Atlantic states, you’re already in tick country. Avoiding the great outdoors will reduce your exposure, but who wants to live like that? Use sensible precautions rather than staying indoors during the best part of the year.

A quick note on weekly classes before we get into it

Claim your spot in Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings or Painting Water, Monday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

Aaron’s very first oil painting. It was a crazy start to the week, with fog, wind and spattering rain, but my students all pushed through it.

How to avoid ticks

Wear long trousers, tuck your cuffs into your socks if you’re hiking through brush, and treat your clothing and shoes or use a good insect repellent.

I spend an unusual amount of time outdoors. I stay out of tall grass, use insect repellent and bathe when I get home, taking time to look for ticks.

Two students in this week’s Schoodic plein air workshop told me that they keep lint rollers in their cars. They’re inexpensive, handy tools to catch unattached ticks on your clothes, gear, and pets before you go inside.

Ticks are patient and remarkably durable. They wait on grasses and low vegetation for something warm-blooded to brush past. Plein air painters generally set up in open places with good views. That limits our exposure but doesn’t eliminate it.

Ticks are surprisingly slow. It can take them all day to decide where to latch on. A thorough check when you get back to your room is usually enough to catch any hitchhikers before they become a problem.

I carry a small tick removal tool on my keyring. They’re inexpensive and weigh almost nothing. I’ve used it on my dog many times, even though he’s on tick repellent. Dogs are a serious tick vector, especially if they ramble. Check your furry friend carefully before bringing him or her inside.

Mark’s watercolor of the fog in the spruces off Schoodic Point.

If you do find a tick

If you do have the bad luck to find an attached tick, don’t just pull it off; use a tick key or fine-tooth tweezers. Grasp the tick as close to the surface of your skin as possible. Using steady, even pressure, pull the tick upward in one swift motion without jerking or twisting it. If parts of the tick are left inside your skin, try to remove them with the tweezers. If you’re not able to, allow your skin to heal. That’s not my advice; it’s the Mayo Clinic’s.

The classic signs of an infected tick bite are an expanding bull’s-eye or red skin rash, flu-like aches, and a fever, but I’ve known people with Lyme Disease who developed none of these symptoms. If anything seems out of sorts after a tick bite, contact your medical provider and insist on a tick panel.

Sufia and Cynthia on day 2 of Schoodic. By Tuesday morning, the weather was brilliant, and it will be great the rest of the week!

Don’t let them steal your joy

The last time I had an attached tick was twenty years ago, when I was living in Rochester, NY. I’m cautious but not paranoid. I am not going to let them steal my love of the outdoors.

The goal of a plein air workshop isn’t to prove how tough you are. It’s to learn to see better, simplify complex landscapes, and enjoy painting in beautiful places. We choose locations that offer excellent subjects, convenient access, and comfortable working conditions. I want people to spend their time concentrating on color, value, and design.

So, pack your paints, bring a hat, apply your bug spray, and perform a quick tick check before showering. Then focus on the real challenge: deciding what to paint next. That’s a much happier question.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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The most important decision in plein air painting

Eastern Manitoba River, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, click on image for more information.

The wallpaper and carpet is gone, so I’m ready for my contractor when he shows up. (Hah!) I’ve moved on to packing for Sea & Sky at Acadia National Park and Find your Authentic Voice in Plein Air in the Berkshires (August 10-14).

I try to protect my students from too much bystander-commentary, but some of it inevitably slips through. (Some of this is unintentional, which is why you should be chary of having private conversations where painters might lurk in the shrubbery.) People say some silly things:

“Are you going to put me in it?” “I wish I had your talent.” “Do you sell these?” and my personal favorite: “That looks like so much fun!”

Moonrise, 12X16, oil on archival canvasboard. For more information, click on image.

Yes, it’s fun, but it’s not easy.

The landscape seems to drowse perpetually in quiet slumber, but in fact it suffers from restless-leg syndrome. This morning the sky went from overcast to austere blue. First there were no shadows; after they arrived, they quickly dwindled to noonday nothing. Now the wind has come around and is exposing the silvery underside of leaves. This evening there may be fog, there may be rain or it may clear.

A quick note on weekly classes before we get into it

Claim your spot in Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings or Painting Water, Monday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

Rachel’s Garden, ~24×35, watercolor on Yupo, museum-grade plexiglass. For more information, click on image.

How do plein air painters ever finish anything?

We aren’t painting everything we see. Plein air painting is generally done in two- or three-hour bursts. After that the light has changed so much that it’s hard to continue. Plein air is generally played fast and loose.

Asking yourself “why do I care about this” is a good first step. What caught your eye in the scene? Was it the rhythm of dark spruce against the bright ocean light? The gentle curve of an orchard sweeping down towards the mountains? If there’s no subject in the scene that compels you as a painter, it’s unlikely that your finished work will compel any viewers, either.

Once you’ve figured out the reason, your job is to place that idea front and center. Everything else is subservient.

Best Buds, 11X14, oil on canvasboard. For more information, click on image.

Memory is part of painting

If someone walks through your scene, you can’t ask them to stand still unless you’re willing to pay a modeling fee. It’s always helpful to keep a sketchbook handy, for figures, cloud formations, sailboats, etc. Your finished painting will ultimately be a combination of direct observation, remembered impressions and informed invention.

The most important decision you’ll ever make as a plein air painter

It’s true of all painting, but particularly true in landscape: the most important decision is what not to paint.

Ask yourself: If I leave this out, does the painting become clearer? In so many cases, the answer is yes.

Painting is all about organizing a beautiful chaos into a coherent design. We’re arranging shapes, values, colors, edges, and rhythms so the viewer experiences what moved us to paint that scene in the first place.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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A Day in the Field

Camden Harbor, Midsummer, oil on canvas, 24X36. For more information, click on the image.

I’m juggling two different activities this week. I’m stripping the wallpaper and carpeting from my hallway in preparation for a bathroom renovation in September. (Yes, that’s mission creep.) I’m also packing my luggage, painting gear and teaching supplies for a two-week road trip. First, I’m teaching Sea & Sky at Schoodic Institute in Acadia National Park. Then I head south to teach Find your Authentic Voice in Plein Air in the Berkshires, from August 10-14.

What scares people the most about workshops

New students are afraid there will be better painters at hand and they’ll feel judged. But even the best painters are busy wrestling with their own painting problems. And plein air painters are—in my experience—overwhelmingly kind and generous.

The Wave, 9X12, oil on archival canvasboard. For more information, click on image.

What they’re really asking

The real question is, “What a painting workshop really like?” The unknown is intimidating. Will you be rushed? (No.) Will you spend the day watching demonstrations? (No.) Will there be enough individual help? (Yes.)

A quick note on weekly classes before we get into it

Claim your spot in Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings or Painting Water, Monday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

Brigantine Swift in Camden Harbor, 24X30, oil on canvas, framed, for more information, click on image.

Let’s look at a typical day

Serious teachers spend a lot of time investigating great locations. I’ll use Home Farm at Undermountain in the Berkshires as my example. This location has farm animals, elegant Victorian barns, and a long view across Parson’s Marsh.

We meet at 9 AM. I start with a short demo to demystify perspective, because architecture can be scary when you don’t know the tricks. Then students separate and start work on their own paintings. I do rounds from painter to painter, timing myself so that I don’t overload them with information. We understand best when new information comes in small bites.

Home Farm at Undermountain is different every year. Perhaps horses will amble over to see what’s happening, or a riding lesson is in the outdoor ring. Goats or sheep graze by the old chicken house. There are always elegant horses in the barn.

We gather to eat our bagged lunches and talk about our work. After lunch, some painters look for another view. Others are still deeply engaged in their first painting, and as long as they stay true to their value sketch they can take as long as they want.

My walk gets longer as students spread out, but I like walking.

What kind of advice am I giving as I circulate? Maybe composition needs simplifying. Perhaps a student lost the shadows that made his sketch so joyful. Maybe her color temperature has drifted, or she’s struggling to establish a clear focal point. Each painter receives advice tailored to where they are, whether it’s their first plein air outing or they’ve been painting outdoors for decades.

At 4 PM, I offer to take anyone who’s interested to Parson’s Marsh for a short hike. It’s a lovely way to stretch our legs and chatter.

Some painters room together, others decide to have supper together, others go explore Lenox’s many charms. Friendships form quickly when people share long days outdoors doing what they love.

Ketch and Schooner, 8X10 in a solid silver leaf frame. For more information, click on image.

I didn’t invent this model

This model used by all good teachers, indoors or out. It’s remarkable how much growth can happen in only a few hours when we’re working alongside other motivated artists in a supportive environment.

After decades of teaching, I know that 15 is the absolute maximum number a class should include. Small groups allow individual attention without sacrificing the energy that comes from painting alongside other dedicated artists. Everyone gets daily one-on-one easel guidance.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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Monday Morning Art School: how cameras undermine painters

Thomaston, ME, 14X18, oil on archival canvasboard. Click on image for more information.

Stand anywhere outdoors and you’re flooded with information. Each leaf catches light differently. Every building has windows, trim, shadows, reflections and textures. Each cloud changes by the minute. You try to capture all this, and you quickly get lost.

You’d think this would be easier when working from photos, but it’s actually worse. That’s because a camera and the human visual system don’t see the world the same way.

A quick note on weekly classes before we get into it

Claim your spot in Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings or Painting Water, Monday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

Beach Roses, 10X10 on sealed Baltic birch, for more information, click on image.

How the camera undermines painters

  • In real life (IRL), your eyes are making tiny jumps (saccades) several times a second. Your brain is suppressing unimportant information automatically. A photograph can’t do that. It records everything with equal indifference.
  • Humans have foveal vision. That means we only focus on what’s in the center of our sight. In contrast, photos make everything equally available. IRL, we naturally spend more time looking at the central points than at the edges of the scene. Our perception and memory is organized around those important shapes. In a photo, every square inch is equally accessible, and we tend to paint every square inch with equal attention.
Along Beech Hill Road, 12X16, oil on archival canvasboard, click on image for more information.
  • Cameras don’t have true depth perception. Our binocular and peripheral vision, along with our head movements, give us a true sense of distance. We instinctively group objects into foreground, middle ground, and far away. Photographs compress the three-dimensional experience into a two-dimensional rectangle, taking away our ability to edit spatial relationships in our paintings.
  • Nature moves constantly—leaves shimmer, clouds drift and water laps in tiny waves. Our brains average these changes into impressions. A photo of the surface of gentle water will show a series of long elliptical shapes. But nobody perceives water like that; we see tiny lapping wavelets. Look at a closeup of a leaf; the background is blurry. That’s not how we see it IRL, where our eyes jump focus many times a second.
  • I take pictures of interesting things only to get home and realize that my phone has edited the charm right out of the scene. The camera is as interested in the scrub in the foreground as it is in the sky in the background.
  • Photos are bossy. We trot right along behind them, copying assiduously. Working from life encourages interpretation because the scene is changing too quickly to copy literally. We have to make choices.
American Eagle in Drydock, 12X16, for more information click on image.

That doesn’t mean you can’t paint from photos.

I paint from photos frequently. However, there are ground rules:

  • I sketch the scene IRL so the big decisions are already made, including composition and focal points;
  • I have lots of experience painting en plein air and from life, which helps me understand the camera’s lies;
  • I start from my sketch, and finish by working from memory. Photos only come out when I need to check matters of light, composition, and detail.

Professionals don’t see more detail than beginners; they see more structure. That’s a learned skill. It improves through learning and repetition. One plein air painting will teach you something, but five consecutive days painting plein air will teach you a lot.

You’ll begin recognizing recurring patterns. You’ll notice that every successful landscape starts with clear value organization before color enters the conversation. You’ll discover that simplifying actually creates stronger, more believable paintings—not emptier ones. Most importantly, you’ll learn to trust your first impression instead of second-guessing every brushstroke.

That’s why I teach five-day workshops, and why I hope you’ll join me for one.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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St. Swithin loves plein air painters (this year, at least)

Carol L. Douglas painting at Acadia National Park
Cassie Sano’s painting of Home Farm at Undermountain’s Victorian barn from the Berkshire workshop.

St. Swithin’s Day was July 15. According to folklore, the weather conditions on this day—rain or sunshine—will hold for the next 40 days.

St. Swithin asked to be buried outside so that ‘the sweet rain of heaven’ might fall on his grave. When he was moved to an indoor shrine in 971 AD, he was so displeased that it rained continuously for the next 40 days.

His legend has a whiff of scientific truth. Around the middle of July, the polar jet stream settles into a pattern which mostly holds steady until the end of August. Here in the northeast, St. Swithin’s weather set fair, which bodes well for my next two workshops: Sea & Sky at Acadia National Park (8/2-7) and Find your Authentic Voice in Plein Air in the Berkshires (8/10-14).

My favorite photo of Becky Bense.

A quick note on weekly classes before we get into it

Claim your spot in Painting Nocturnes, Tuesday evenings or Painting Water, Monday evenings. Both are 6-9 PM, starting the week of August 17, 2026.

I upload videos of these online classes and you have access to them for as long as there’s YouTube. That means you can review them if you need a refresher or have to cut out early.

My own self-assessment

Someone recently told me I need to learn to ‘love myself.’ I cracked up; I spend more time on self-care than anyone but movie stars and influencers.

The activities that interest me most are painting, teaching painting, and writing about painting. Self-assessment is notoriously unreliable, but I think I’m good at these things.

These musings were prompted by Mark Gale texting, “I think, Carol, you can certainly teach people to paint.” That jogged me into asking a few of my Berkshires workshop students to tell you about their experiences. I decided to leave them unedited. Read through them, and imagine what a workshop can do for you.

The absolutely incredible view from HomeFarm at Undermountain, courtesy Berkshires Online

Cheryl Shanahan

Carol Douglas has made me a better painter—twice. I first studied with her in Acadia National Park (2024) and returned for her Berkshires workshop (2025) because I knew I’d be challenged in all the right ways.

We painted at several inspiring locations, including a historic horse farm, a Shaker village, an orchard, and a waterfall (bring your bug spray).

Carol has a remarkable ability to meet every student where they are, offering thoughtful, individualized instruction that sharpens observation, strengthens drawing, and builds confidence.

Under her guidance, I became more intentional about sketching from life, mixing color from direct observation, and exploring gouache as a new-to-me medium.

If you’re willing to arrive with an open mind, work hard, and embrace constructive feedback, you’ll leave painting at a higher level than when you arrived.

Becca Wilson

Taking Carol’s workshops has made me a much stronger painter because she emphasizes the fundamentals in a way that is approachable and immediately practical. I came away with a much better understanding of color theory, working with a limited palette, creating value studies, scaling up drawings, composition, and techniques for painting challenging subjects like multi-roofed barns, gnarly old tees, and clouds. Those are skills that continue to influence every painting I make.

The Berkshire workshop was especially memorable because it was relaxed, encouraging, and full of opportunities to explore. We painted in several beautiful locations, and Carol gently pushed me to choose subjects I probably wouldn’t have attempted on my own. That challenge expanded both my confidence and my way of seeing a landscape.

Carol doesn’t just demonstrate techniques. She teaches you how to really observe what you’re seeing, which completely changes the way you approach a painting, no matter the medium. 

My advice to future participants would be to stay open to painting subjects outside your comfort zone and to trust the process. Carol creates an environment where experimentation feels safe, and that’s where a lot of the learning happens. I particularly loved the final critique with my fellow students. Whether you’re looking to strengthen your technical skills or simply grow as an artist, you’ll leave with both new knowledge and renewed confidence.

Lynda Mussen painting under a changeable sky in the Berkshires. She’s coming back to Schoodic this year.

Lauren Hammond

In 2024, I attended the Berkshire workshop. The moment I arrived, I realized it was the perfect setting to learn how to paint layered bands of green trees, open fields, and wooded landscapes. I dove right in, and with Carol’s generous guidance, I made significant progress in this area.

Amy Holderness

I had the pleasure of taking Carol Douglas’s five-day painting workshop in the beautiful Berkshires, and it was a truly memorable experience as it was my first time taking a workshop like this.  Each day brought us to a different location, offering fresh inspiration and new challenges as we painted our way through the stunning landscape.

Carol is a wonderful teacher who shares her knowledge and encouragement in a way that makes you want to keep painting and improving. One of the best compliments I received during the workshop was, “I wish I had painted that.” It was such an encouraging moment and a reminder of how much I had grown over the course of the workshop.

One of the best pieces of advice Carol gave me was to start each day with a small, 20-stroke painting. This simple exercise helped me loosen up, focus on the essentials, and let go of the pressure to make every painting perfect. The 20-stroke painting I did on-site was eye opening as I learned how to plan my work in advance and then just go for it. 

Kimberly Quinn-Jones’ underpainting on Blueberry Hill at Schoodic.

I came away from the workshop with new skills, renewed confidence, and wonderful memories of painting in the Berkshires. I highly recommend Carol’s workshop to anyone looking to grow as a painter while enjoying a truly inspiring and supportive experience.

I have just two workshops left in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters