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.

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

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

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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.

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

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

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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.

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

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

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

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.

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

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

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

Arizona’s light changes everything

Crepuscular rays from Forest Road 525, 8X16, oil on linenboard. Available through Sedona Arts Center.

Painters think about light the way sailors talk about wind. We don’t perceive either of them directly, but they influence everything we do.

I’ve been painting and teaching in Sedona, AZ for several years now (and am very blessed to do so). There’s something about high desert painting that transforms the way we see color. The warm light and the color of the shadows falling across canyon walls are different from anywhere else. I don’t think that’s just because the light is brighter, although it is. It behaves differently from the filtered light of the northeast.

Sedona’s colors are over the top. There are red rock buttes, sheer ochre cliffs and cool green pines and junipers, all under a brilliant blue sky. That can fool painters into always using the most saturated colors possible. That’s a trap. The real story isn’t the color of the rocks, it’s what the light does to them.

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

Sedona sits high, dry, and clear. There’s seldom atmospheric haze to soften edges or dissolve forms. As a result, values snap into focus. Shadows aren’t murky or vague; they’re cool, transparent and very colorful. You can’t get away with ho-hum darks.

The intense warmth of the red rocks complicates what we understand about color temperature. They bounce warm light into shadow areas, creating a running dialogue between warm and cool. Shadows contain more color than sun-bleached planes. That’s counter to what we think should happen.

Hammerhead cumulonimbus cloud over Posse Grounds Park, 9X12, oil on canvasboard, available through Sedona Arts Center.

Wanna try it?

This March, I’m leading a 5-day plein air workshop in Arizona, and I’d love for you to join me.

Canyon Color for the Painter: A Plein Air Workshop will be held through the Sedona Arts Center, March 9–13, 2026. This immersive week-long workshop is designed for painters in oil, acrylic, pastel, watercolor, gouache, and at all experience levels.

You’ll master advanced color strategies that elevate your plein air and studio work. Through practical lessons, focused exercises, and daily on-site painting sessions, you’ll gain time-saving techniques, build stronger compositions, and harness color and line to direct the viewer’s eye with authority.

You’ll refine your unique artistic voice while strengthening foundational skills in drawing, observation, and brushwork. Whether you paint boldly or seek more control and clarity, this workshop offers deep insights, supportive instruction and meaningful feedback. And did I mention it’s lots of fun?

Sycamore Shadows, 14X18, oil on archival canvasboard, available through Sedona Arts Center.

Reserve your spot now for an unforgettable artistic journey.

This workshop includes:

  • Demonstration and instruction
  • Supervised plein air painting sessions
  • Targeted exercises
  • Critique and discussion
  • Individual feedback

This is a great opportunity to break out of comfortable patterns and push your skills, all while enjoying the great cultural and natural resources of Sedona.

Questions

You can register directly on Sedona Arts Center’s website, here. Or, contact me if you have questions. I’m happy to answer anything about the workshop, skill requirements, materials or what to expect painting in the desert.

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

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

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

Am I being selfish?

The Pine Tree State, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Am I being selfish?

I hope you’re all sitting quietly amid the remnants of Christmas and Hanukkah. I’m always glad to celebrate with my loved ones (and almost as glad to be done with it). This year, however, I’m on a mad rush to paint the rooms in my daughter’s first house so they can move in this weekend.

There’s a nagging little voice that I’d like to stomp out whenever it shows up in my life. It sounds practical, even virtuous. Isn’t this selfish? Shouldn’t I be spending this money and time on something more useful? I know that voice well; it torments me by telling me to do administrative tasks before painting. For others, it’s particularly loud when they consider signing up for a painting workshop.

I’ve spent my life hearing how art is secondary to the serious pursuits of math, science, history and economics. We tend to treat art education as optional, but scores of studies point to its importance both for the developing mind and for adults.  That moves it up in priority, from something you earn only after all responsibilities are met to something that’s vital for health and happiness.

No other discipline is framed this way. Nobody suggests that continuing education for engineers, teachers, or physicians is selfish. In those fields, learning is understood as maintenance. Painting is no different. If you care about your work, you need input—fresh eyes, structured guidance, and time to think deeply about what you’re doing.

The Late Bus, oil on archival canvasboard, 6X8, $435.00 framed, includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Self-indulgence or stewardship?

When you enroll in a painting workshop or online class, you’re hardly buying a luxury object. You’re investing in skill, clarity, and confidence. These are durable goods. They don’t wear out. They compound. A single breakthrough in understanding composition, value structure, or color harmony can quietly reshape every painting you make going forward. That’s not selfish; that’s efficient.

The Road to Seward, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in the continental US.

At a good painting workshop, you’re no longer guessing in isolation. You see how other painters solve problems. You learn why certain approaches fail and others succeed. Most importantly, you learn how to look. That’s the real product of art education, and it can’t be downloaded from a quick video or absorbed by osmosis.

Most painters don’t lack ability; they lack time and space. A workshop gives you sanctioned time to focus on your practice without apology. For caretakers, professionals, and anyone used to putting themselves last, this can feel transgressive. But it’s precisely why it matters. When you invest in your creative life, you model seriousness—about art, about learning, and about your own inner life.

From a practical standpoint, workshops often save time and money in the long run. How many years have you spent circling the same problems? Muddy color. Weak focal points. Paintings that never quite resolve. A few days of clear instruction can untangle issues that have stalled progress for a decade. That’s not extravagance; it’s problem-solving.

Last light at Cobequid Bay, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

But wait, there’s more

Art isn’t just something you produce. It’s something that shapes how you think. Painting teaches patience, discernment and restraint. It trains you to make choices, live with them, and revise intelligently. Those skills don’t stay in the studio. They ripple outward into how you handle uncertainty everywhere else.

Investing in a painting workshop isn’t selfish; it’s a vote of confidence in your capacity to grow. And that’s one of the most responsible choices an artist can make.

I’d love to have you join me for Trust the Process (making technique tell the story you want to tell), my live Zoom class designed to help you build a dependable, joyful, repeatable painting practice. (It’ll give you something to focus on besides the bleak midwinter.) We’ll dig into technique, creative decision-making and the mindset that frees you to paint with confidence. We meet Monday nights, 6-9 PM EST, starting on January 5, 2026. It’s suitable for all levels and all media. You can learn more here.

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

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

Seven Protocols for Successful Oil Painters

A week of painting, a night of celebration

Cheryl Ryan painting at Beauchamp Point.
My intrepid class at Colin Page’s gallery.

After a week painting outdoors in this limpid October light, my workshop students are showing their work! Join us tonight, Friday, October 10, 5–7 PM at the Carol L. Douglas Gallery, 394 Commercial Street, Rockport for my final gallery opening of the season — with new student pieces and some of mine on the walls too.

Their work is still wet and oh, so fresh. These students range from absolute beginners to experienced painters, and their progress this week has been wonderful to watch.

Cheryl Ryan painting at Beauchamp Point.

This is the last event of the year before I close for the season, as I’ll be heading for Arizona next week for the 21st Annual Sedona Plein Air Festival. It’s a wonderful chance to see both my students’ work and mine.

I’d like to regale you with stories about their courage in the face of rain, fog, sleet, wind and snow, but the weather this week has been absolutely wonderful. (I keep telling you that autumn is the best season in coastal Maine.) Other than a rogue wave nearly washing Dave and his easel off the rocks, it’s been a blessedly drama-free week. I’ve driven them hard, however. I know they’re tired, and ready to join you for a glass of wine and conversation.

Plein air painting is never boring. First, there were skinny-dippers, then these four scuba divers…

We’ve painted at Beech Hill, Camden harbor, Beauchamp Point and Owls Head, giving us granite rockscapes, the long view of Penobscot Bay, lobster boats and fall color. Come meet the artists, enjoy light refreshments, and take home a piece of Maine, painted with heart and immediacy.

Somehow my workshops always seem to involve dogs. That’s Ellie curling up with Mike and Sharron.

My 2026 workshop and Zoom class schedule will be published soon. Watch this space for more information.

Monday Morning Art School: how to prepare for a plein air painting workshop

A good workshop fosters camaraderie.

A good plein air painting workshop is a growth opportunity. You set aside time to focus on painting—something most of us rarely get to do in the press of ordinary life. A little preparation before you arrive will make your week smoother, more productive, and more fun.

Pack the right gear

Painting outdoors is different from working in your studio. The wind blows, the sun shifts, and you can’t run to the store if you need something. That’s why I send you specific supply lists.

These lists also include necessities like paper towels, trash bags, bug spray, sunscreen and a hat. Don’t forget water and sensible shoes. (If you’re flying, let me know and I’ll tell you what you can safely carry on a plane and what you can’t.)

Having fun talking about values.

Practice with your kit ahead of time

Nothing slows you down more than fumbling with an unfamiliar easel on the very first morning. Set up your easel beforehand. Is it stable? Can you reach your palette without stooping or stretching? Do you need additional space to hold tubes of paint or brushes? Time you invest in practicing your set-up will pay off when you’re standing outside, impatient to get started.

This is my friend Jane, talking to my students about I don’t know what. She’s a crackerjack painter, so I’m sure it was good.

Condition yourself for the outdoors

Plein air is the most satisfying and instructive painting discipline, but it’s also physical work. You’ll be outdoors for long stretches. If you’re not used to being outdoors, give yourself the grace of a little conditioning. Go for walks. Practice sketching out of doors. You don’t have to be an athlete, but stamina helps you stay focused on painting.

Study your fundamentals

A workshop is where I want to start brand-new painters, because I can give them the one-on-one attention that they need. But it stands to reason that the more comfortable you are with the basics, the more you’ll get out of instruction. Do a few quick sketches every day. Don’t worry about whether they’re any good. Think of this as stretching before a race: it warms you up for the work ahead.

Occasionally, you’ll have to watch me demo, but I promise I’ll crack jokes.

Arrive with an open mind

Perhaps the most important preparation is mental. While we want to see change, we’re also afraid to let go of our ingrained habits. Growth doesn’t come from staying in our comfort zones.

It’s not just you who’s resistant to change; it’s everyone, including me. Every student comes into a workshop with habits, strengths and stumbling blocks. Be ready to let go of your routine and try something new. Some lessons may click right away; others may feel uncomfortable at first. You can trust me and my process; I’ve been teaching a long time.

You’ll learn as much from your fellow students as from me. Be willing to share your thoughts, ask questions, and offer encouragement. A workshop is a group effort, and the energy you put in helps everyone rise.

Be ready to show your work

Critique and student shows can feel intimidating, but they’re great opportunities to see your progress with fresh eyes. Remember, everyone else is just as vulnerable as you are. Hang your work proudly—it’s the record of your week’s labor and learning.

Above all, a plein air workshop should be fun.

Ready to try it?

A plein air workshop is a gift you give yourself: uninterrupted time to paint, guidance to grow, and experiences that will stay with you long after we all pack up and head home. If you’d like to take that leap, join me in Rockport for my October In-Person Immersive Workshop. We’ll paint the coast in its autumn glory, have a guided tour of the Farnsworth Art Museum and visit the Page Gallery, where Colin Page will talk to you about his process. We’ll wrap up with a student show. Spots are limited—reserve yours today and come ready to paint outside with confidence.

Why does work look different in a gallery?

Brigantine Swift in Camden Harbor, 24X30, oil on canvas, framed, $3478 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

I close out my local painting workshops with student shows in my own gallery (and wish I could do that everywhere I teach). Student gallery shows are about far more than just hanging paintings on the wall. Many of my students are professionals; for them, gallery shows are old hat. But for others, the leap from easel to gallery is mysterious. What does it feel like to have work hung with intention? How do others respond when they see your vision in a professional setting, rather than just propped up somewhere?

Drying Sails, 9X12, oil on canvasboard, $869 framed. Includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Why does work look different in a gallery?

On the easel, a painting lives in the context of wet brushes, dirty rags and the rush of choices you’ve been making in real time. You’ve been staring at it for hours, judging every brushstroke and second-guessing every passage. It feels like an extension of your tired head: intimate, unfinished, maybe even uncertain.

But in a gallery show? Suddenly your painting is scrubbed up and dressed for company. It lives independently of you. It hangs against clean (hopefully) walls with space around it. It’s no longer just something you’re working on. It’s a complete statement, a thing to be contemplated. Sometimes that means it has attributes and meaning you the creator never expected. Strangers stop, look, and give it the attention you couldn’t afford when you were wrestling with it.

That change of setting is immensely clarifying. Sometimes you’re astonished by how strong your painting looks in a gallery. Other times, you see where it wobbles. Either way, the gallery strips away the clutter and distraction of process and lets the painting speak for itself.

That’s why it’s so important to get your work out of the studio and onto a wall. A painting isn’t truly finished until it’s in the world, doing the job it was meant to do: communicating with viewers.

Larky Morning at Rockport Harbor, 11X14, on linen, $869 unframed includes shipping in continental US.

A student show is more than just critique

I believe in reasoned, intelligent critique. It’s critical not just for the painting under discussion but for developing your executive function as an artist.

In critique, the audience is small, sympathetic and hopefully knowledgeable. Critique is about growth, not display. It’s a safe place to experiment, fall short and try again.

A gallery show, on the other hand, is about putting your work in front of people who don’t know your process or your struggle. They don’t care how many times you scraped out that sky; they just respond to what’s on the wall.

Critique is rehearsal. The show is performance. You need both in your life as a developing artist.

Dinghy Dock, 8X10 on archival canvasboard, $522 unframed includes shipping and handling in the continental US.

And then there’s the opening itself. I gave up cooking 24 years ago, but I can serve hors d’oeuvres with the best of them. An opening is a party to which all your besties are invited. Standing in my gallery, you will discover an essential truth: art isn’t complete until it’s seen. That tells us something I can’t predict, which is the public’s emotional response to your art.

Want that experience for yourself? Join me for my upcoming immersive plein air workshop in Rockport, ME, which will culminate in seeing your own work on my gallery walls.

Immersive in-person painting workshop — FAQ

Beautiful Dream, oil on archival canvasboard, $1449 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

When and where is the immersive in-person workshop held?

The painting workshop runs October 6–10, 2025, centered in Rockport, Maine. Plein air sites include Beech Hill, Camden Harbor, Beauchamp Point, Owls Head, and the North End Ship.

What happens if it rains?

My studio is available if it’s raining. I’ll contact you if a location needs to change for weather.

What level of painting experience is required?

This is a one-on-one painting workshop, which means I can take beginners to advanced painters.

Which painting mediums are accepted?

All portable mediums are welcome: oil, acrylic, pastel, watercolor and gouache.

Clary Hill Blueberry Barrens, watercolor on Yupo, ~24X36, $3985 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

What supplies do I need?

Here’s a clothing packing list for a week of on-site painting. Watch the forecast as the weather advances.

If you have room in your kit, feel free to bring more than one medium. I’m happy to instruct in any of them.

These lists have links to specific products. If you’re buying your supplies in a bricks-and-mortar store, please take it with you on your phone and refer to each item directly. Art supplies have many ‘look-alikes’ that can vary in color and quality—for example, I’ve linked to two different Masterson boxes, one for acrylics and gouache, and one for oils. I’ve linked to these exact products so that you don’t waste money on something that’s not quite right.

Plein air supply list—Acrylics

Plein air supply list—Gouache

Plein air supply list—Oils

Plein air supply list—Pastels

Plein air supply list—Watercolor

Apple Tree with Swing, 16X20, oil on archival canvasboard, $2029 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

What is our daily schedule like?

Sessions run daily from 9:00 AM to 4:00 PM, with morning and afternoon painting, plus lunchtime discussions and demos.

What makes this painting workshop “immersive”?

This isn’t just a class—it’s a full dive into the creative life of a plein-air painter. Highlights include:

  • Plein-air painting at stunning locations unique to the Maine Coast;
  • A full day of figure study, exploring form and light using a live model out in nature;
  • A visit to the Farnsworth Art Museum exploring the changing nature of plein air painting;
  • A visit to Colin Page’s gallery to meet the artist;
  • Small group size allowing one-on-one instruction, demos, collaborative painting, and reflective conversation during demos and lunches.

How many other students can I expect in my group?

Enrollment is capped at 14 participants, ensuring focused instruction and community engagement.

How is this different from a regular weekly class?

Unlike shorter weekly classes, this immersive painting workshop:

  • Offers extended depth and momentum over five days;
  • Combines lectures, demos and conversation with painting practice, figure work, gallery visits, and community learning;
  • Creates a purposeful and creative environment that mirrors a painter’s lifestyle—living, working, reflecting in community with your peers.
Owl’s Head, 11X14, oil on archival canvasboard, $1087 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

What’s the cost?

The tuition is $780, which covers all painting instruction and your admission to the Farnsworth Art Museum.

Where should I stay?

There is accommodation of all levels available in Rockport, ranging from campgrounds to camping cabins to charming Mom and Pop motels to the very chic Rockport Harbor Hotel.

Seaswell Campgrounds

Oakland Seashores cabins

Starlight Lodge

Harkness Brook Inn

Country Inn

Rockport Harbor Hotel

Do I need a car?

Yes, you need a car, but if you’re traveling with a partner, you can be dropped off and picked up at our painting sites.

Don’t hesitate, enroll today

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!