Tag: plein air

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A maritime painting that’s not out to sea

American Eagle in Drydock, 12X16, $1159 unframed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Google tells me a lot of things I never knew I needed to know. One of these is that American Eagle in Dry Dock, above, is the most-viewed painting on my website, followed by Skylarking and Inlet. All three are watery paintings, although the water in American Eagle in Dry Dock is just out of the frame.

Not many people see boatyards in the dead of winter or early spring, but that’s when they’re the most interesting. I like to visit the North End Shipyard during the off-season. It has a marine railway, an ancient contraption on which a boat is slowly hauled onto dry land for its annual servicing, or fitting-out. Big old wooden boats don’t come out of the water often, since the planks would dry out and warp. Don’t feel sorry for them; up here the water is generally warmer than the air in winter.

Skylarking II, 18×24, oil on linen, $1855, includes shipping in the continental US.

During those few days when they’re up on the ways, all kinds of mysterious rites are performed over them—planks steamed and fitted and seams caulked with oakum. A Coastie goes around with a hammer pinging on the ribs to make sure everything is in order for the coming season. In another part of the boatyard, the blocks are sanded and varnished. (By the way, “in a trice” comes from another term for blocks. That’s how fast something can be pulled up with these nautical pulleys.)

The boat is sailed into a huge cradle and wooden supports are fitted underneath it. It’s then towed up by a winch-and-cable system attacked to the diesel engine, which is incredibly noisy and even older than the boatyard itself.

Why I like this painting

American Eagle in Dry Dock evokes the spirit of fitting-out to me. It’s got a sweeping curved prow, a wooden hull laid bare, and that ancient diesel engine.

The emphasis is on the boatyard’s heavy machinery in contrast to the elegant geometry of the schooner’s hull. Sometimes I like loose brushwork, but in this case, I ruthlessly pruned the details, making them subservient to the composition. You, the viewer, are left with two concepts in counterpoint to each other.

Whether you frame it in a traditional plein air frame or opt for a modern narrow black frame or even a grey coastal finish, American Eagle in Dry Dock will adapt beautifully to any décor.

Inlet, 9X12, oil on archival canvasboard, $869 includes shipping and handling in continental US

Beyond mere picturesque appeal, the painting embodies my reverence for maritime history and craftsmanship. Schooner American Eagle was built in 1931 as part of the final generation of Gloucester fishing schooners. It was meticulously restored by Captain John Foss and is now maintained by Captain Tyler King.

For lovers of nautical art, coastal living or New England heritage, this piece is more than decoration, it’s a story. A story of wood and salt air, of salt-stained decks and wooden ribs exposed to the Maine cold during fitting-out. It calls to those who find solace in the quiet rhythms of boatyards, in the geometry of rigging, and in the romance of sail and tradition.

Ketch and Schooner, 8X10 in a solid silver leaf frame, $652 includes shipping in the continental US

Last call for Christmas

With the holiday season upon us, American Eagle in Dry Dock makes a unique and meaningful gift — for yourself or a fellow maritime-art admirer. Order now to enjoy the painting in time for Christmas. Its size (12X16) means it packs a punch without overwhelming your walls. And shipping is included within the continental United States, making this an accessible and impactful nautical oil painting.

However, I don’t have much time to get it to you before Christmas. Don’t miss this chance to bring home a piece of Maine coastal tradition that evokes sea, history, and craftsmanship, just in time for the holidays.

Registration is now open for workshops in 2026! Reserve your spot:

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Art + Community: Art Works for Humanity 2025

Old Masonic Temple, Belfast, oil on canvasboard, 10X11, Stephan Giannini

Every September, a group of painters fans out across Belfast and Waldo County. We were set up on the harbor, along quiet backroads and in downtown Belfast, responding to the light and landscape in real time. This was the 4th annual Art Works for Humanity, a plein air painting event organized by Habitat for Humanity of Waldo County. It is their largest fundraiser of the year.

This year’s artists were Deena Ball, Ian Bruce, Daniel Corey, Marsha Donahue, David Estey, Stephan Giannini, Eric Glass, David Hurley, Renee Lammers, Bjorn Runquist, Matthew Russ, Holly L. Smith, Suzannah Sinclair, Michael E. Vermette, Nora West and me.

The Last Light of Belfast, oil, 16X20, Daniel Corey

The premise is simple: we create original plein air paintings and these works are then auctioned to raise money for affordable housing. The live auction is this coming Saturday, October 4, and you can buy tickets here. This includes an elegant reception and the opportunity to meet me and other artists in person. Or, for the first time, you can bid online, here.

The event will be held at the United Farmers Market of Maine, 18 Spring Street in Belfast. The public viewing starts at 3:00 PM, followed by a reception at 4:30 PM, and the live auction begins at 5:30 PM. Belfast’s mayor, Eric Sanders, will serve as auctioneer. If you can’t be there in person, please consider bidding online.

I painted my work—a large panoramic vista of Belfast Harbor—from the east end of the pedestrian bridge. That hadn’t been my original intention; I’ve had a love affair with the rockscape of the head of tide of the Passagassawakeag River for several years. However, as I was heading down its steep gorge, a fisherman was climbing up. “Water level is real low,” he said. “As low as I’ve ever seen it.” That doesn’t make for brilliant painting.

Evening Sky, oil on canvas, 24X36, Carol Douglas

Instead, I drove back towards Belfast. A beautiful swirl of clouds curled over the city. It’s a good thing I laid them in fast. By the next day, the moisture was gone and we’d settled back into the pattern of blue skies and soft breezes that have characterized this summer.

On the pedestrian bridge, I talked to countless people, both visitors and locals. That included my old friend and gallerist, Eileen McDermott, who was out on her daily walk. She stuck around to tell people about the event. I was reminded of just how much I miss having her promoting my paintings.

One of the things I like best about art auctions is the opportunity to see my old friends. You might think we’d be falling all over each other while painting, but we had ten days and all of Waldo County at our disposal. It will be great to reconnect on Saturday.

Habitat for Humanity of Waldo County is a local affiliate of Habitat for Humanity International. They build decent, safe and affordable housing on terms that local people can afford. That’s a crying need here in midcoast Maine, where housing costs are very high.

Habitat’s model is to sell houses to working families who qualify after going through a multi-step application process. The new home owners also contribute at least 200 hours of sweat-equity to both their own and other Habitat houses.

A Belfast Afternoon, oil on linen, 12X16, Bjorn Runquist

Art Works for Humanity works because it’s so direct. Artists contribute their time and talent. Collectors and neighbors come to view and bid. Everyone’s efforts combine to support something bigger than any one painting.

I’m pleased to be part of this event again. If you’re in Belfast, come see the work, meet the painters and raise your paddle. If you’re online, bid early and often. It’s for a great cause.

Registration is now open for workshops in 2026! Reserve your spot:

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Monday Morning Art School: five days, five trees

Baby spruce on the shoreline at Corea, 8X10, Carol L. Douglas, private collection.

Early autumn is a season for show-offs. Maples are decked out in red, birches are fluttering gold confetti, and the oaks are quietly deepening into bronze.

This week, I’m challenging you to paint one tree a day for five days—a fast, seasonal series to sharpen your skills and catch the fleeting colors before they’re gone. Think of it as your equivalent of a daily walk: short, refreshing, anxiety-reducing and, above all, fun.

Those of you doing the Strada 30-day challenge (and you are legion) will find this a natural fit with your current discipline.

Eastern White Pine, 11X14, Carol L. Douglas, private collection

The challenge

  • Paint one tree each day, Monday through Friday.
  • Work small.
  • Focus on one tree per painting, not on an entire landscape.
  • Work fast. This is about observation and response.
  • You can work in oils, watercolor, gouache, acrylic, markers or even crayons.
Baby trees, 6X8, Carol L. Douglas, private collection.

Why trees?

Trees are ideal seasonal subjects. Each species responds to autumn differently, and every tree has its own character. By painting multiple specimens over a week, you’ll learn to:

  • Notice subtle shifts in color.
  • Closely observe the growth patterns of different species of trees.
  • Capture structure and gesture quickly.
  • Understand how light and atmosphere affect foliage.
  • Loosen up.
Nobody said these trees had to be realistic. This is also a 6X8.

Tips for Success

  • Pick your tree before you start. Eliminate decision fatigue.
  • Squint to simplify shape and value.
  • Start with big color masses, then refine edges and accents only as needed.
  • Resist the urge to noodle.
  • If it rains, paint from your car or porch. Or, if you can’t take time for plein air this week, paint from photos.

Share

I’d love to see what you create. Post your tree paintings on Instagram or Facebook with the hashtag #FiveTreesChallenge and tag me so I can see what you’re doing.

Pear tree, 9X12, Carol L. Douglas, private collection.

Why I’m asking you to do this

Many years ago, I set out to paint a 6X8 canvas of an individual tree every day. I quit only after I’d exhausted the selection of trees at my disposal. Since I live in the Northeast, this took a while.

My daily tree exercise was as useful to me as studying figure. I learned to understand trees in their robust roundness, and to draw them gesturally.

A short, structured challenge like this builds good painting habits. It sharpens our editorial instincts and creates painting momentum. By Friday, you’ll have a lovely little series, and who knows? Maybe you, like me, will keep painting trees.

Take it further

If this week’s challenge whets your appetite for deeper study, join me for my October Rockport Immersive Workshop in Rockport, ME. We’ll paint Maine’s spectacular autumn landscape, with focused instruction, plenty of easel time and a community of fellow painters. There’s no better way to grow than to paint intensively in good company.

Learn more and register here.

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Is an immersive art workshop different from a weekly art class?

Drying Sails, 9X12, oil on canvasboard, $869 framed.

My latest reel is here.

Some of us want a teacher who cheers us on at every step, someone who makes us feel seen and supported. Others do better with clear standards and firm instruction. Most good teachers are a mix of both, but it takes time to tease out what a student needs. That’s where a painting workshop comes in.

The fundamentals of painting are light and shadow, proportion, design, color, composition and meaning. A great painting workshop folds these lessons into the practice of painting itself.

In my Rockport Immersive Workshop you’re not just painting for a week, you’re diving headfirst into the whole world of being a painter. These extra experiences are what make this workshop different from a weekly class.

Main Street, Owl’s Head, oil on archival canvasboard, $1623 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

What does immersive mean in this context?

When I say my fall workshop is immersive, I mean it’s a deep dive into painting. You’ll be stepping fully into an artist’s world, nourished by relationships, context, and creative resonance.

I’m really asking you to live the plein air painter’s life for a week. You’ll set up your easel in midcoast Maine’s most iconic landscapes, from Camden to Owls Head. You’ll stretch your skills with figure study in the crisp autumn light. You’ll reflect on what you’ve learned with serious art conversations during demos and lunches.

We’ll visit the Farnsworth Art Museum to discuss plein air painting through history. Colin Page has invited us to visit the Page Gallery, to help map out the conversation between contemporary practice and our own creative path. Then on Friday, we’ll have a group show, with your paintings on my gallery walls—and a celebration to cap off our time together.

American Eagle in Drydock, 12X16, $1159 unframed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

What makes it truly immersive?

  • The extended duration allows ideas and skills to deepen and blossom;
  • Locations are not just scenic; they’re also historical and relate to movements in art;
  • Working alongside other passionate painters fosters creativity and learning that extends beyond instruction;
  • Seeing and discussing art in galleries and museums connects technical practice with where we stand in the great sweep of art history.
Beauchamp Point, Autumn Leaves, 12X16, oil on archival canvasboard, $1449 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Because I keep my groups small, there’s plenty of room for one-on-one support. I explain, demo and then step back so you can try it yourself. The real goal isn’t to make you a copy of me, but to help you unlock your own ideas and refine your own painter’s voice.

If you’ve been waiting for the right moment to invest in your art, this is it. Spaces are limited, so grab your spot today!

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Monday Morning Art School: the overwhelming landscape

The Vineyard, oil on linen, 30X40, $5072 framed, includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Last summer, one of my students arrived at my workshop with a problem I see frequently. She could draw beautifully from photos, but when she set up outdoors, she froze. “The landscape is overwhelming,” she said. “There’s too much going on. I don’t even know where to start.”

That’s the problem of infinite options, and at times it can be a stumbling block for even the most experienced painters, especially in a new environment. There is a sense that the whole world is pressing in, demanding to be painted. If you succumb to that and don’t break the scene down, you end up fussing endlessly over detail. Or, by trying to include everything, you end up with a painting about nothing in particular.

On the first day, I gave this student one simple assignment: big shapes first. We stood on the edge of a blueberry barren, facing a stand of spruces set against the immensity of the ocean and the sky. “Squint,” I told her. “What are the three biggest shapes you see?” She hesitated, then answered: “The sea, the sky and the trees.”

Athabasca River Confluence, 9X12, $696 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

That became, in the end, both her composition and her focal points. Once she blocked these in on her sketch, she could move easily into a structured, sensible painting. She was no longer struggling to find a starting point in an immense landscape, and the mindless chatter of too much detail faded.

By the end of that day, she had a painting that was loose, fresh, and alive. More importantly, she had an epiphany. She realized she didn’t have to paint everything, only the essence of the scene. From that point onward, the workshop was a romp for her.

Every painter has hurdles like this—sometimes it’s drawing, sometimes color, sometimes just getting past his or her own nerves. The good news is: once you know the roadblock, you can break it down. That’s where good instruction and practice make all the difference.

Coal Seam, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

But don’t take my word for it

Here are some of the comments I received after last year’s October immersive plein air workshop:

“The week started as an exercise in frustration, for all the varied reasons that make watercolor challenging. But Carol, with a sprinkling of her magic dust, managed to turn it into a high by Friday afternoon.” (Rebecca)

“It was a week of growth for me! Thank you, Carol, for a wonderful learning experience.” (Lynda)

“What a magnificent experience this has been to meet everyone, be a part of a week of learning, living, creating, with like-minded artists and a teacher with significant range… I loved our week together and would do it again in a heartbeat.  I learned so much from Carol, which was the icing.” (Jody)

“I had a wonderful week! I learned a lot and am left energized and motivated to put all my new-found methodology to work.” (Beth)

“Thank you for the abundant art wisdom, patience and willingness to give of yourself.” (Sandy)

“This is the first workshop I’ve attended without a 2–3-hour demo to start every day and it was WAY better!  The personal attention addressing my painting–where I’m at and where I’m trying to go–was so much more helpful than watching someone paint then trying to relate it to my work.  The demo at the end of the week solidified all that we had discussed all week. (Christine)

Eastern Manitoba River, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed when standing in front of a landscape, don’t put off tackling it. My October immersive plein air workshopis your chance to face it head-on. With its sweeping views and ever-changing light, Beech Hill is one of the best classrooms you’ll ever step into.

But space is limited, and October will be here before you know it. Don’t wait—secure your spot today, and give yourself the breakthrough you’ve been waiting for.

Click here to reserve your place before it’s gone.

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Monday Morning Art School: choosing a plein air easel or pochade box

The Gloucester-style easel is great for park-n-paint but I really can’t carry mine very far.

I finished last week’s workshop with a plein air easel show-and-tell at my gallery, because a recurring question is, “what kind of easel is best for me?”

There’s no one-size-fits-all answer, so before you start looking, ask yourself these questions:

  • What size paintings do you typically do outdoors? There are maximum sizes for each plein air easel, and they don’t perform well once you exceed that.
  • What medium do you use—oil, acrylic, watercolor, gouache or pastel?
  • Do you prefer fast setup and light weight, or something more stable in high winds?
  • How do you usually travel to paint?
    • Park-n-paint, where you paint near or out of your car.
      Backpacking or hiking to painting sites.
      Flying to workshops.
  • How frequently will you paint outdoors? A daily painter needs a more stable plein air easel than a once-a-month painter.
  • How handy are you? Paint boxes are simple; a good craftsman can build or modify most designs. However, if you don’t know which end of the screwdriver means business, you’re better off buying one off the shelf.

Remember, all plein air easels and pochade boxes are compromises, which is why I’ve ended up with so darn many of them.

How not to treat your Mabef M-27 watercolor easel…

Watercolors vs. oil painting

Watercolor painters who work small may need no plein air easel at all; they can do just fine with a folding chair and their work on their lap. If you plan to work larger, a pivot head is important. There are a number of options for this, including the Mabef M-27 field easel (here at Dick Blick, here at Amazon).  It can hold a full sheet of watercolor paper on a Gatorboard support and the angle adjusts very quickly. It’s also usable for other mediums, but there are easier plein air easels for oils and acrylics. Also, balancing a palette on its arms is sometimes an exercise in frustration.

Pivot heads are not just for watercolor

There are several other pivot-head systems on the market, and I generally like them because they divorce the support from the often-heavy paint box. The Leder easel at $159 (not including the tripod) is reasonably priced for a solid, stable, painting system. It can hold a canvas up to 24″ tall, which is large enough for most plein air work. You must buy your own tripod and paint box, but that has some advantages. You’re not hauling around a heavy wooden box, because you can pair it with a Masterson Sta-Wet palette box, which is far lighter. It’s also a great system for pastels, because it allows you to use your existing pastel box. In fact, you can flip between media quickly. (Ed says that if you use the code Carol10, you’ll get a 10% discount.)

Terrie Perrine’s pastel box on her Leder easel. Building your own box is a great solution if you’re handy with tools.

Guerrilla Painter boxes are rock solid but too heavy for me (I just gave my last one to a friend). They do make a fabulous support, the No. 17 Flex Easel. It still requires a tripod with a pivot head and some kind of box, but En Plein Air Pro makes an excellent shelf that will hold your stuff.

Another option in this family is the Coulter Art Box, which has a pivot head and a box with a wraparound support that grabs the legs of your tripod.

This is where being handy is helpful; many artists have modified or built flat paint boxes at a fraction of the cost of an off-the-shelf version. I built mine.

Pochade boxes

There’s so much variety in pochade boxes that I can’t possibly mention every choice. For most fieldwork I use an Easy L box, which I have in three sizes, including an 8X10 that’s light enough to backpack. I bring an Easy L box when I’m flying.

The New Wave u.go pochade is a simple, elegant design, but even the largest is really only suitable for smaller work. Its mixing area is very shallow; that’s a problem if you use lots of paint. However, the palette does lift out so you can freeze it, and it’s lightweight.

Strada makes the only aluminum pochade boxes that I know of. That’s a pity, because aluminum is less prone to moisture damage than wood. It doesn’t result in much weight savings, however.

About your tripod

A good carbon-fiber tripod and a ball head with a quick-release plate may set you back more than your pochade box. The good news is that they’re lightweight, stable, and almost indestructible. I have only one; I swap it out every time I change pochade boxes.

My students from my plein air workshop last week. Front row: Phoenix Barra, Aurise Randall, David Griffin. Back row: Helena Van Hemmen, Jeanne-Marie Van Hemmen, Lori Galan, Yves Roblin, Marlene Van Aardt, Amy Sirianni, LuAnn Dunkinson, Tim Moran, and me. Missing: Rachel Houlihan. (Photo courtesy of Bill Marr.)

Gloucester-style easel

For years, I used a cheap knock-off of the Gloucester easel. Mine finally snapped in a high wind. The replacement was so warped that I returned it. If you want this style easel, you need the Take-It Easel.

The Gloucester-style easel is invaluable for large work or windy days, but it’s too heavy for me to carry very far. Weight is the big reason so many artists use the park-n-paint approach to plein air. It’s easy, but it’s limiting.

What not to buy

I’ve written about how Google drove me toward inexpensive and fatally-flawed Meeden pochade boxes. It’s always frustrating to watch students struggling with terrible equipment..

Many people have been given a French box easel by loving friends or relatives. If you have one, by all means use it, but don’t voluntarily inflict one on yourself. They’re heavy and difficult to set up. Pochade boxes are lighter and nimbler.

Registration is now open for workshops in 2026! Reserve your spot:

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Two art shows, coming right up!

Oh, announcements, announcements!

David Griffin painting this week (photo courtesy of Amy Sirianni)

Come over this evening and see my students’ art show

Advanced Painting workshop student show
Friday, July 11, 2025, 4-7 PM
394 Commercial Street, Rockport, ME 04856

My Advanced Painting workshop students have been working like mad all week, and this evening, we’ll exhibit their vibrant, exciting work at my gallery, at 394 Commercial Street, Rockport. Let’s celebrate their passion, creativity, and, above all, the growth they’ve achieved in this intense week of work.

Painting on Beech Hill (photo courtesy of Amy Sirianni)

This show features work by twelve painters who’ve had the courage (and endurance) to follow me around to my haunts in midcoast Maine, from the harbor at Owls Head to the panoramic view off Beech Hill, to a village street scene in Camden, and more. These artists paint in a range of styles, from loose expressionism to careful observational drawing. And they range in age from 16 to… well, my contemporaries.

It’s been a fabulous weather week (photo courtesy of Amy Sirianni)

This exhibition isn’t just about the finished paintings—it’s about what happens when people give themselves permission to let loose. I’ve been teaching adults for several decades, and I’m always amazed by how willing they are to take artistic risks.

The reception will take place tonight from 4-7 PM, with light refreshments and an opportunity to meet the artists. Please join us!

Prom Shoes 2, oil on archival canvasboard, 6X8, $435.

Next week, bring your dancing shoes

Disco Fever
Thursday, July 17, 2025, 5-7 PM
19 Elm Street, Camden

Shine up your sequins and dust off your platform shoes. Lone Pine Real Estate (and I) will present Disco Fever,a night of art, glitter, groove and good vibes, from 5-7 PM, July 17, 2025 at 19 Elm St., Camden.

In addition to the glitz and glamour of the disco era, the event will feature work by Camden painter Rachel Houlihan, Rockport painter Stephen Florimbi, and, of course, me. The DJ will be Nate Quinn, who wasn’t even born when disco was in fashion.

I came of age in the disco era, so I never mind a little bling. I’ll be wearing my sequined Betsey Johnson platform sneakers (because too much of a good thing is a great thing). And of course, disco makes a ruckus, which is why it’s the perfect compliment to the Camden Art Walk. Let’s see if we can make more noise than those crazy kids down on Bay View Street.

Registration is now open for workshops in 2026! Reserve your spot:

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Why don’t I teach shorter painting workshops?

Camden Harbor from Curtis Island, oil on canvas, $2782 unframed includes shipping and handling in continental United States.

I’m teaching an advanced painting workshop this week. Today is the third day, and when my students departed yesterday, they all looked a little tired. OK, a lot tired. It’s a lot to work from 9 to 4 in open air, while trying to integrate new concepts.

A fellow teacher once told me that she had been asked to compress a four-week beginner course into two days. “I think it’s a disservice,” she said. “That’s a lot of information to compress into a much shorter time. So, either it’s a very shallow dive or there’s so much information compressed so tightly that half of it gets lost.”

I’m terrible at taking pictures while teaching, but one of my students set up in the shade of an old schooner, and I thought her easel looked darn cute there.

I am often asked about shorter painting workshops as well. They fit neatly into a weekend and the cost is lower, so they’re easier to sell. If they’re subject-based, like ‘painting sunsets,’ they can work because these painting workshops are inherently shallow. They work best for people who already know the rudiments of painting; otherwise, they’re a bit too much like sip-and-paints.

But two or three days are insufficient when it’s a question of really developing style, color fluency, composition and form. And if you understand these concepts, you don’t need a special painting workshop on sunsets or water; you have the tools to paint anything you want.

Downtown Rockport, 14X18, oil on archival canvasboard, framed, $1594 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

What can go wrong? A lot.

Basic protocols for watercolor and oils run to about seven discrete steps, depending on how you break them down. Here are, roughly, the steps for oil painting:

  1. Set up your palette with all colors out, organized in a useful manner.
  2. Do a value drawing.
  3. Crop your drawing and identify and strengthen big shapes and movements.
  4. Transfer the drawing to canvas with paint as a monochromatic grisaille.
  5. Underpaint big shapes making sure value, chroma and hue are correct.
  6. Divide big shapes and develop details.
  7. Add highlights, detail and impasto as desired.

Let’s just consider #2. It’s almost useless for me to just tell you to do a sketch. In fact, if I did that, you’d have to wonder why you didn’t just draw on the canvas instead. You need insight into what you’re looking for, what makes a good composition, and different ways to do that preparatory composition.

Maynard Dixon Clouds, 11X14, oil on archival canvas board, $869 includes shipping in continental US.

I can (and sometimes do) rattle off a lecture on these points, but that is the just the start of the process of discovery. Unfortunately, in a two-day painting workshop, that’s about all the time we’d have for the step many artists consider most crucial to the development of a good painting. You, the student, then go home and consult your notes. They become a slavish list of dos-and-don’ts, rather than a framework for a deeper understanding.

It’s far better that I start with an exercise that allows you to build understanding of composition on your own. That, in a nutshell, is the difference between a book and interactive teaching. It’s why people take painting workshops in the first place.

That kind of teaching takes time.

Arthur Wesley Dow, the popularizer of Notan, had his students work for weeks on line before they eventually graduated to masses and then finally to greyscale and color. His students included Georgia O’Keeffe, Charles Sheeler, Charles Burchfield, and other 20th century art luminaries, so he was definitely onto something. Learning to paint properly takes time.

This is a revision of a post from 2022.

Registration is now open for workshops in 2026! Reserve your spot:

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The color of place

Teslin Lake, 8X10, oil on archival canvasboard, $522 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Years ago, Bobbi Heath, Joelle Feldman and I went to the Bahamas to paint. There were many lovely things about that trip, including the warmth. However, I found myself absolutely uninspired for painting. Grand Bahama lacked three variables I crave in landscape painting: variety of foliage color, compelling architecture, and fascinating line. (I’m sure that if we’d been there in hurricane season, the weather would have spiced things up nicely, but alas, it was all calm seas and blue skies.) I have a limited interest in the beach and I came home with very little in the way of finished work.

It was also my first experience in a resort area, and I found it frankly disturbing to be in a place where visitors and natives were so cleanly separated. That’s not something I’d ever seek out again.

No Northern Lights Tonight, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

An artist born in the tropics might love the subtle variations of turquoise for his landscape painting, whereas I found the gentle surf boring. He, in turn, might find the sulky violence of the Maine surf to be cold and forbidding. He undoubtedly would like conch, and I prefer cod.

If all goes well, as you read this I’m jetting from Manchester to Malta and Gozo for a week of hiking. I’ve no real idea what Malta looks like, although I’ve dutifully read up on its history. It will, I suppose, be dry, sandy, sunny, and more anciently-settled than most of the places I hike—not too different, I suppose, from the dusty village from whence my Calabrian ancestors emigrated.

Keeping my expectations low—hah!

I’ve painted in many corners of the world, and I always tell myself to keep my expectations low, that landscape painting in one place doesn’t necessarily translate automatically to another place.

That never actually works. I’m always carried away.

I’m not taking my oil painting kit, but I will have a sketchbook and a small watercolor kit. In the past on these hikes, I haven’t had time to do much painting. Even when I do, the results are just a passing fury. It’s not just a matter of focus, but of exploration. There’s a difference between landscape painting for finish and effect and plein air painting for exploration and thought. I never seem to move past the latter.

Consider the difference between Thomas Moran’s trail sketches from the Hayden Geological Survey of 1871 and his magnificent oil paintings of the same subject. The sketches are meant to record impressions; the paintings are meant to awe and inspire. Would Moran even have gotten into a major modern plein air event? Perhaps not.

Maynard Dixon Clouds, 11X14, oil on archival canvas board, $869 includes shipping in continental US.

This spring’s painting classes

Zoom Class: Advance your painting skills (whoops, the link was wrong in last week’s posts)

Mondays, 6 PM – 9 PM EST
April 28 to June 9

Advance your skills in oils, watercolor, gouache, acrylics and pastels with guided exercises in design, composition and execution.

This Zoom class not only has tailored instruction, it provides a supportive community where students share work and get positive feedback in an encouraging and collaborative space. 

Zoom class: Signature series

Tuesdays, 6 PM – 9 PM EST
April 29-June 10

This is a combination painting/critique class where students will take deep dives into finding their unique voices as artists, in an encouraging and collaborative space. The goal is to develop a nucleus of work as a springboard for further development.

Registration is now open for workshops in 2026! Reserve your spot:

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Business for artists and painting in Sedona

Shadow Fingers, 11X14, oil on Baltic birch, $869 includes shipping and handling in continental United States.

First, the business

My friend Dennis used to tell me, “I’m an accountant with the soul of an artist.” That’s all very well, I’d counter, but every successful artist also needs the mind of an accountant. (Luckily, I never believed in that now-discredited left-brain, right-brain malarkey.)

On March 8-9, I’ll be presenting at the first Sedona Entrepreneurial Artist Development Program. This is open to Arizona residents aged 18 and over. The two-day intensive covers a range of topics from financial management and marketing to crafting an artist statement, developing work samples and selling artwork online. My part will be accounting for artists, and I plan to make it exciting.

Even if you hire someone to do your taxes, you still need to understand what expenses to record and what don’t matter. You need to be able to track your inventory, and, if you teach or run a gallery, how to protect yourself against liability.

Country path, 14X18, oil on archival canvasboard, $1,275 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Painting in Sedona

Immediately following the Entrepreneurial program, I’m offering Canyon Color for the Painter from March 10-14. There are still a few seats left.

I’ve taught and painted in Sedona for several years and know great places for morning light, evening light, and all the light in between. We’ll meet on location at 9 AM, work steadily until 4, and then you’ll have the evening to hike, take one of the famous Pink Jeep tours, or try one of Sedona’s many fine restaurants. If the weather is poor—and it almost never is—we can meet in a classroom at the Sedona Arts Center (SAC).

Dawn on the Upper Red Rock Loop Road, 20X24, oil on canvas, $2,318 includes shipping and handling in continental United States.

The top five things I love about painting in Sedona

  1. The weather—there is a scene in PG Wodehouse’s Quick Service where the old prizefighter Steptoe is trying to convince his wife to give up on Merry Olde England. “What you want wasting your time in this darned place beats me. Nobody but stiffs for miles around. And look what happens today. You give this lawn party, and what do you get? Cloudbursts and thunderstorms. Where’s the sense in sticking around in a climate like this?”

    He was urging her back to California, but in Sedona it’s also almost always fine. After this winter, we deserve fine.

  2. The scenery—Sedona combines some very brilliant colors: the reds of Bell and Cathedral Rock, the lush greens of Oak Creek Canyon, the sere yellows of the chaparral, and the deep blue of the sky. Because it’s seldom overcast, shadows jump and the light shimmers. It’s just magical.

  3. The people—I’ve known Julie Richard, the executive director of SAC, for a decade. It’s the same with Ed Buonvecchio, my workshop monitor. The rest of the support staff, including Bernadette Carroll and JD Jensen (with whom you’ll have the most contact), are kind and terrifically helpful.

  4. The hiking—There are 400 miles of hiking trails in the Red Rock Ranger District on the Coconino National Forest. Then there are state and city parks. Sedona is a hiker’s paradise, and I swear Julie Richard can tell you about every single trail.

  5. The funny things that always seem to happen to me there—Painting in Sedona has led to extremely funny interactions between the punters and me. I don’t think that’s from ley lines and vortexes, but because in the grand scheme of things, plein air painters are just one more dot on the overwhelming landscape. Come prepared to smile.
Hail on the Cockscomb Formation, oil on Baltic Birch, $522 includes shipping and handling in continental United States.

Registration is now open for workshops in 2026! Reserve your spot: