November 7, 2020
Humboldt Park
Chilling sparkle, brilliant huddle
September 7, 2019
Hahn House Wisconsin
gold and orange and white and red beneath
transparent forest green water
luminescent yellowgreen aroids
reverberating with chitchat
February 6, 2019
Garfield Park Conservatory
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
Pools of pigment
little fingers and wandering eyes glide by
as we sit among the ferns
returning to the present
each mark an act of resistance
to the here and now
until we part
January 9, 2020
Garfield Park Conservatory
7/26/18
I love that great camping table setup. So elegant, so efficient!
All the colors are pulled out. The colors are already perfect before we paint with them. Leslie keeps them bright and separate. I muck it all together and try to dig the image back out.
The lily pads are moving, and they go faster than we expect. I can’t remember if they were opening or closing over the course of our session. (I made a painting about them later.)
I forgot almost everything that we talked about, except that we kept switching between narrating our experiences of making and talking Chicago in the 90’s. 7/26/18
We got rained on just after we set up. I didn’t try to make anything good, and I don’t remember what either of us made at all. It’s just a relief to be outside with no distractions. Leslie was tired from travel. The weather was exciting and unpredictable. We were thwarted but that was fine. 5/9/20
I’m looking into the backyard and Leslie is painting cut flowers. My six year old son is painting with us too. We’re staring out the window and spacing out, having kid-centered conversations. I’m trying to simulate the weird colors of the trees. I’m noticing Leslie’s eyebrows. She really has amazing eyebrows. We’re sharing our experiences of being homebound, and our fears. I finally feel like I am getting the hang of watercolors, even though I still can’t leave things be.
July 26, 2018
Humboldt Park
August 13, 2019
Humboldt Park
May 9, 2020
Remote Normal Illinois
