i am beginning a multi week artist residency, taking place in the back yard at wrenhouse. there has been a huge, tent like structure installed for everyone to work under that is open to the outdoors (no walls). my dad and lowe are both there too, and it feels like i’m being aided by their creative powers. when it comes time to paint i gather my materials, find a lovely spot with a big table and desk, and prepare to start a plein air painting, but i can't bring myself to start. i think "maybe i need a different scene to paint" and venture outside.
outside, there are other smaller gondola like structures. there is a woman, 23 or 24, sitting on a swinging bench next to a large painting. she looks forward out towards the mountain while working on the canvas without looking. she has made a very cartoon-ish painting of a stylized person who resembles her sitting next to a colorful animal in a car. both figures wear the same expression, one of worry and nervousness but also courage. when i read her painting i think maybe i have put too much time towards perfecting and molding the style of my paintings. she is painting what's true to her and putting style second, i decide.