Drawing on What's Right in Front of You

I just finished reading American Mirror by Deborah Solomon, a new biography of Norman Rockwell, and really enjoyed it. And after having lived with an illustrator for quite a number of years, I have a certain appreciation of the demands that "art on a deadline" can create.

Watercolor Group in Parque del Capricho, Madrid

I was also struck how Rockwell claimed that he was unable to draw unless he had a model, a few costumes or props, a photograph or some sort of reference material right in front of him. Most people (and I include myself in this group) didn't understand: how could he not just draw something plucked from his brain or coughed up from memory, especially after spending so many years doing art full time?

In Spain last fall, the illustrator in my family gave a plein air painting demo to a group of painting friends. Mistake - it poured rain and soaked us all. But the Spaniards persevered, and took us to lunch for the traditional dish Cocido Madrileno.  And by the time dessert came, most of us were more tipsy than damp.

The following day - rain, rain, rain and more rain. So to me, it seemed like a great idea to make little "thank you" paintings for the lovely painters who had treated us so well the day before. I mean, what else to do when all the museums have been visited and painting in the Parque del Retiro is not an option?

Except, except, the painter had nothing in front of him to paint! He, like Norman Rockwell, just couldn't settle down. He whined, he moaned, he huffed and puffed, he paced and squirmed, but I didn't relent. I mean, what else did he have to do on a rainy day except bug me, right? Better to get to work than "help" me knit or read.

iPad to the rescue. Along with a coffee cup borrowed from the kitchen, a stack of pens and pencils, a new tall and skinny painting pad, and an unyielding partner. And in the end, I certainly think it was worth the bother.