Category: Uncategorized

Early July Chicago morning, hot already with blooming lily pads

July 22, 2019

Garfield Park Conservatory

Sitting in Humboldt Park with Leslie Baum
As the green of the plants merged with the moldy pond
And my hand drew whatever (aka plein air)
And the talk was sweet, and the weather fair
I was feeling a sense of calm.

September 2, 2019

Humboldt Park

It was so nice to look at plants, water and sky, and to try to capture something of the scene, all while chatting. Like parallel play, we both looked and painted, and chatted about things other than looking and painting, until the rain came and we packed up and ran.

September 27, 2019

Humboldt Park

When pressed to think about myself as an artist, I often forget that the first thing I believed myself to be was a painter. But I never knew “what to paint” – I think I always thought myself into a corner so to speak, until I wasn’t painting at all. I often find my best creativity comes around when I don’t think or the tools are so foreign to me I can’t get in front of them. My en plein air afternoon with Leslie reminded me that you can just look at what’s in front of you and paint it. And you don’t have to paint the thing, you can paint the color or the light or the feeling in front of you, you can disregard shapes or abandon rendering and just respond.

It is funny how sometimes you just need another person to invite you or lead you somewhere that is right in front of you, completely available all along. It is as though I had been fumbling with too many keys trying to unlock a door that was actually ajar. In any case, I made a painting that day I actually liked. And while I haven’t made another en plein air painting since, writing this reflection reminds me that I have a beautiful lagoon in front of me every day, I should go outside and paint it. The very reason in fact this art school (I work for and live at – Ox-Bow) was founded: to paint the lagoon and landscape around it, en plein air.

August 24, 2019

Little wolf Wisconsin

A friend on a bench. Brushes in pockets.
Plants are smiling and I, well, I’m a little nervous about them.

September 3, 2017

Garfield Park Conservatory

Before I showed up to our painting date, I’d been feeling burnt out, out of practice, and disconnected from the art community in Chicago. Leslie’s kind words and sharing about our mutual experiences at the Glasgow School of Art brought back so many fond memories and left me feeling completely refreshed and re-invigorated with my work. I feel very grateful to have been a part of this project and hope to see it continue.

September 3, 2018

Garfield Park Conservatory

My plein air painting date with Leslie Baum, August 29, 2020

I met Leslie at Humboldt Park on a Saturday morning in August. We found a shady, secluded area behind the baseball diamond near North Avenue and Humboldt Boulevard to set up our painting zone. Leslie brought two aluminum tables that unfolded from briefcases and a stool for each of us, as well as a small canvas bag filled with watercolor supplies for me to use. With our backs to the bleachers of the baseball diamond, we had a lovely view of some grassy wetland and several trees. We talked as we painted. The conversation flowed naturally as we recounted the last days leading up to the pandemic, how we were getting our groceries, and the story of how Leslie began teaching. Apart from a few curious park wanderers who asked what we were up to, the area was all ours. I made four paintings. It felt like a meditative exercise. I remember a quiet flow, looking and painting at the same time, not really thinking. I was inspired by clumps of yellow and lavender wildflowers, the negative shapes between slanted tree trunks, and many tiny buds on branches. We each took a break to take some photos. When we were done I walked Leslie back to her car and then walked toward home through the middle of the park.

August 29, 2020

Humboldt Park

We had been in quarantine for months, and I had been ordering flowers each week from a friend to help her stay in business.
Iris season had started and she brought me three dozen stems, covered in huge blooms—some warm and pink-yellow like a peach, and most a shimmering white that was nearly grey.

Leslie is the first person I had seen outside of my household in so long. She came to my apartment which stands along a grassy boulevard; we sat far apart, our voices carrying on the breeze to make conversation.

Irises have been a poignant point of focus as I’ve grieved the passing of my father.
Leslie has approached me with tenderness and compassion since his death, and she appreciates how long and unpredictable feeling our way through loss is.

I’m suspicious of images per se, and if they occur in my work, they are usually appropriations rather than inventions, but the voluptuous, lacy blossoms in these bouquets appeared to ask for a kind of impressionism in my looking. Drawn in powder, just a puff of an impression.

This year contains so much loss, personally and across the globe.
There was tremendous sweetness in Leslie’s arrival, our time working together, and then a puff and gone again, our drawings and a couple of photos she took as an easy residue.

May 31, 2020

in person remote Marshall Bvd Chicago

He wore layers but knew his fingers would get cold.
He chose his hat carefully.
“These brushes are softer than those,” she said.
He always loved drawing trees.

October 23, 2019

Garfield Park Conservatory