From the moment I touched down in Asheville for this year’s Plein Air Convention & Expo (PACE), I knew the trip had been sprinkled with some sort of fairy dust.
My friend and fellow painter, Meg, and I walked up to the rental car desk, expecting a Kia, when the agent asked if I’d be okay with an orange Jeep.
That was the first of many Godwinks I experienced in just one week, because surely my dad was up there with a smirk on his face as I was handed keys to the car I’d dreamed of owning since I was a teenager.
Next was the arrival at the conference hotel. It was like showing up to a Disney World for painters, with everything thoughtfully curated and a feeling of magic in the air.
Like my first experience at PACE last year, I knew I was among my people.
Over the week, we got to watch demos from world-renowned artists like Joe Paquet, Kathie Odum, Anne Blair Brown, Kami Mendlik, Larry Moore, and so many more.
We painted for hours per day on the grounds of the historic Biltmore Estate, in constant awe of its grandeur.
We got caught in the pouring rain in the strawberry fields, quickly gathering our materials to huddle under the protection of a farmers market stand, where someone walked around passing out the juiciest strawberries I’ve ever tasted.
In one week, I experienced an incredible amount of moments beyond my wildest dreams.
The camaraderie. The mentorship. The recognition of so many people I’ve admired for so long. The chance to simply soak in the mountain air and let each day unfold as it would.
I was a sponge, open to absorbing all I could.
Throughout the week, I was able to identify what’s missing from my process, or rather, what I haven’t allowed myself to do:
Slow down.
To take a beat, and take the time to feel the energy of the subject matter. To immerse myself in the moment, and in nature. To sketch and figure out the composition and what I want to say before I start painting.
As always, what I learn in my painting is typically the lesson I most need in life.
Take the time to slow down. To immerse myself. To sketch; explore; be open.
Treat every moment as if it’s magic, because when you’re doing what you love, it truly is.
It took me years—maybe even decades—to understand how pivotal painting is to my wellbeing. Being an artist feeds my soul, just as being a partner, a mother, a grandmother, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a teacher, a mentee, does.
I can’t fully immerse myself in painting like I did for that magical week at PACE every day, but that doesn’t mean my day-to-day can’t include sketches; value studies; journal entries as I observe nature and life; books about artists; conversations about art.
Art lives in my bones.
Every once in a while, I need an infusion of community, inspiration, and respite to resurface what’s inside of me, but once I do, I know there’s no stopping me.
And while it’s taken me a while to get to this place, I also know this:
The angels and teachers appear when the student is ready.
I, Cindy Harris, am a student of this life who’s open and ready.
Are you?