Love at First Impression – How Monet Taught Me What I Needed to Know About Love

On a gorgeous fall day, with the sun peeking through the leaves as they painted the world orange, I sat outside and I felt lonely. The grass beneath my fingertips was my only companion as disgustingly happy couples surrounded me. 

I’ve found that as the days get shorter and the sun says goodnight earlier, it’s easy to feel like everything is falling except you. The temperature plummets, leaves tumble down branches and people fall in love. Suddenly, everyone around you is enjoying the foliage, holding hands and making heart-eyes at each other as you bundle yourself up just to keep warm. It becomes a reminder of what you don’t have rather than an appreciation of all the things you do; a fairytale you’re not part of, it’s too good to be true.

Plein Air Painting and Reflecting Constant Change

Painting en plein air is an old way of breaking out of the so-called predetermined results of painting in a studio, the sort of thing famous old painters did in French gardens while wearing excellent hats. But you can make it whatever you like. Consider it an exercise in presence.

Strange Art From Down Under

It would be impossible to experience the Johnson’s exhibit Icons of the Desert without being profoundly disconcerted. Though the works on display are extremely graphic (so much that they could be confused with the works of Piet Mondrian or Robert Slutsky from a distance — both of whom lingered on patterns as well), these paintings are not to be confused with typical “fine art.” What is disconcerting about this exhibition is explained by their source: