Last night I set up the easel at the gallery, squeezed out fresh oils, and spent a couple of hours painting in front of a roomful of people. It's a good way to make yourself nervous on purpose.
The piece I worked on is a scene from the Spain trip — a stretch of waterfront with pale buildings catching afternoon light across the bay, and a few figures walking the promenade with shadows stretched long behind them. Not a monument, not a postcard. Just the kind of ordinary moment that ends up sticking with you when you travel.
Doing a demo is different from working in the studio. There's no stepping away to think. You commit to a brushstroke, and a dozen people watch you commit to it. If it's wrong, you fix it in front of them too. That's actually the part I like — it's honest about how the work gets made. Painting isn't precious. It's a series of decisions, most of them small, a few of them ruinous, and you keep moving.
A few people asked good questions — about how I block in the big shapes first, about why the underpainting reads orange under all that blue, about why the figures stay loose. I tried to answer without slowing down too much. The light in your head doesn't last forever.
Thanks to everyone who came out, to the gallery for hosting, and to the folks who stuck around at the end to talk shop.
Impressions of Spain runs through May 13th. The full body of work covers Valencia, Segovia, Toledo, Ávila, San Sebastián, Madrid, and Bilbao — and I'd love to see you there.