At the park, people show up

22 July 2021

At the park, people show up

The was the second of two studies from the other night that came quickly. Lucky, because I hadn’t worked in a while and it shows. It’s a scruffy-looking thing, like my brother’s Jack Russell, Chili, when she comes in all ruffled after a romp in the field. 

The horizon was postively glowing when I first arrived and an iridescent turquoise sea was lit up. But it didn’t last long, and within twenty minutes its lustre had faded, but I did manage to paint two, of which this was the first. This was fine with me because the afternoon air was chilly. The winter’s breath can be seen in this study.

Despite all the beauty in front of me, I got a little lost at the beginning of this painting and found myself hesitating and fidgety, so I tried to imagine myself with Beginner Mind, something which can usually takes the stress out of my go-to perfectionism. Then I remembered Samual Beckett, another kind a wise guy, though not from the East, who proclaimed; “Fail again, fail even better”. Obviously, this isn’t the usual positive affirmation one recites while working but I vigilantly monitor my mind when it starts to turn South because if I’m thinking, I’m already in trouble.

But it despite the chill in the air, it was a lovely afternoon, full of the usual suspects on the beach. Here in Australia, people just show up because it’s the beach much like they would at a park in any city anywhere I think. People will just show up to watch anything that’s going on. This afternoon a crowd of curious teenagers had arrived at the end of path and upon seeing me, immediately made a bee-line towards my easel. They were really sweet, and they peppered me with lots of questions while I was desparately trying to work on my unhappy-looking picture. They wanted to take photos and though I hate that, I said yes because they were so cool. I’ve learned to say yes to any amateurs of art at the beach especially the youth. I am, after all, at the mercy of all the elements out there. With my left hand clutching my brushes I feigned a smile in that moment of embarressed compromise like I’ve been caught out naked or something, for I am open and vulnerable all at once painting at the beach. Moreover, my painting on the easel, in its unfinished state, added further embaressment.What’s a fellow to do?  Grin, and bare it.

Thankfully though, by the time people generally see me, they’ve usually already passed me by up on the small dune on the right so they usually just smile and continue down towards the sea. But there are exceptions, people so curious to see a guy painting a picture that they come to see what I’m doing. Sometimes they don’t wish to make their way up but want a photo of me from the path and kindly ask me. 

But the other day, they were pretty cool kids, as they generally are around here, actually. In fact Australians are pretty cool people. But it is the kids who I love the best for they are both curious and shy. Friendly and fearless like Golden Retrievers they will bound up and circle around my easel and check everything out. Some are full of questions but others just look up at me with wide eyes. They are always surprised to see an old guy like me up on a sand dune painting a picture. Right off, I ask them if they paint themselves and suddenly the ice is broken. There are always one or two in a group who respond with a resounding yes!  

A few meters way from me are waist-high bushes, some of them half-dead so they make great drying racks for the wet paintings. They are often several of them placed carefully between the thin fragile branches and they ellicit ‘Ooo’s and ahhh’s’ from my visitors.