One day after painting Plein Air at Blithewold in RI, I tried to match up the blue hue I had captured outside in the garden (complete with tiny dead bug carcasses) with the blue sky captured on my camera at home. Right away, I noticed a stark difference. The observation strengthened the notion that artwork embodies more than just a visual process; involving intimate conversations with innkeepers, tiny creatures and fragrant smells like magnolias, and a goofy hat to lessen the brightness of the sunlight. My painting was a culmination of it all. Often, painting from a photo just regurgitates what the “camera” interprets. That original hue was vibrant and a representation of an intimate encounter with nature. 

Besides the first-hand experience of it all, I believe painting on scene also pushes an artist to capture the "essence" of the subject, knowing that time is limited, and that in just a few short hours, the sky and light will change. It forces one to really "capture what makes the moment." Much in life is precious and we often take time for granted. When you are using a photo for reference you can get lost spending too much time in the details and lose what makes a piece uniquely yours.

Personally, the greatest thing that painting Plein Air did for me, was helping me to face my fears. I tend to be a perfectionist. I even covered my work when onlookers tried to catch a glimpse! When I am comfortable at home, I can "perfect" it... The catch with that is, is that if I want to perfect it, I might as well just have snapped a photo. Under time constraints, I had to be choosey with what I decided to work on or emphasize and be confident with my strokes.

In the end it really is worth getting out of your comfort zone, while truly living life and recording your first-hand version of it all! in the age of technology, Plein Air really keeps traditional art alive.