The gloriousness of painting from life

It’s one thing to set up a still life in the privacy of your home/studio, but it takes guts to set your easel up on a busy street.

This May I painted in Glastonbury, about an hour’s drive from my hometown Bristol. I parked for the day, and set off down the High Street to scope for locations. The town was ”Normal for Glastonbury”, so no shortage of crystal shops, wizards, singing, chanting, meditating, and drumming.

Honestly, I nearly packed up my conventional arse immediately. The monkey on my shoulder said “People will be judging your work. Shop owners will complain you’re obstructing the pavement. What if it rains? What if you drop all your brushes? Just go to a field and paint Glastonbury Tor“

My son always tells me people are much nicer than most people think they are. With his words ringing in my ears, I took a deep breath, found a spot where cars wouldn’t park in front of me, out of the way of pedestrians, with my canvas in shade. I put John Dalton’s podcast on my headphones, got caught up in the view, and for the next 3 hours just painted. Lots of lovely people offered compliments. Two gentlemen of a certain age asked whether I was using oils or acrylics, and seemed to approve on that basis. A couple asked how much I was planning to sell it for (it will be available at the Heart Of The Tribe gallery group show in July), and many people just said how nice it was to be doing it. Children pulled their parents over to see, some came back later and checked my progress.

Apart from a dog weeing dangerously near my bag, I couldn’t fault the experience. Happy with my painting, I went to the supermarket and bought a delicious car-picnic of Kimchi, Kombucha, Goat’s cheese, lentil crisps, and seaweed. Restored, I set off back to Bristol.

Handbrake turn

Looking in my rear view mirror, I caught a beautiful glimpse of the Tor nestling on green land, in the late afternoon sun. One rather dodgy manoeuvre later (counting my blessings for that handy 2-front-eyed depth perception) I pulled into a side road and parked by a gate. I trampled down enough verge nettles to put up my easel without blocking the lane, and set to it.

With the company of cows, birds, and the occasional cyclist, I enjoyed this second painting just as much. Several people paused and wound down their car windows for a chat on the way past.

The paintings turned out OK, which is always a bonus. I think you can tell they were painted from life, they preserve every dimension of the day, recorded as and when I experienced it (except the flies, which I fished out). Regardless of skill level, painting from observation produces an image imbued with life, depth, and a certain quirky ‘realness’.

But the lasting impression, as I finally set off for home, was of the friendliness of people... Next time, I’ll be less hesitant. What about you - would you paint in public? Maybe you already do… so, how do you find it?!