Manhattan Beach 2015: Traveling Art Pub

 

During the break: backgrounds are done

I've  been intrigued by online offers for a session of painting with a glass of wine, thinking that I really should "do this" and uncover my hidden painterly talents. The chance came unexpectedly when I saw a Traveling Art Pub promotional poster in the breakfast room. I signed up for the Thursday evening event and tried  to sell Bob the idea of taking the class, an offer he adamantly refused.

I had been led to believe we would spend a lovely evening on the lawn painting. I imagined a Trout Lake sunset and myself in the picture, working happily on a modest but competent little piece of art. I skipped over to the Red Room where we had played Bingo the night before.

The woman in the center had the best painting -- different from everyone else

The room was set up with dozens of easels on long tables. Each workstation was equipped with an apron on the chair and a palette of five colors (black, brown, yellow, blue, white) of acrylic paint on a Styrofoam plate, two brushes (small and large), and a mason jar of water. A few women seemed to be handling registration and money collection, as well as maintaining some kind of order. It really wasn't clear who was in charge.

About fifty women ranging in age from mid-twenties to older than me milled about, holding glasses of discounted wine and beer. A few had appetizers and small meals at their workstations. A couple of waiters took orders and delivered the food and beverages. It all felt very chaotic to me, a little bit like a child's theme party right before the birthday kid's mom loses control.

My masterpiece before I messed it up

Finally we began. I was doing great as long as we stuck with backgrounds. I was so good at blending colors, deviating a little from instructions shouted at the other end of the room. I like to add a  personal touch to my creations, and there were so many students that the teachers didn't care about one uncooperative budding artist. They did care when I went to the paint table to get more yellow paint. The pump was defective and big yellow splats squirted into the air before squiggly stripes of paint landed on the carpet. Oh oh. Time to get back to my canvas.

The responsible parties cleaned up the mess and  the evening wore on. Bob dropped in to check my progress and I promised him a canvas for his garage. Noise increased with alcohol levels and I missed the relative quiet of Bingo Night, when even the unruly were silent during number calling. I got a little more sloppy when we started using the small brush to paint dandelion stems with black paint. I figured I would correct my rough edges with a Sharpie later.

Unsigned Dandelions in the dusk by CAT


By eight o'clock I had really had enough and decided that I needed a glass of wine to help me finish this thing. The wine helped all right. I got even sloppier and splashed a little too much white pain on the dandelion fuzz flying in the air. Attempts at correction diminished the quality of the finished product and created a kind of dark aura around the dandelions blowing in the wind.

As my fellow artists gathered on the lawn for a group picture (I was not the only "no-show"), I returned to our room with my wine and dripping painting to see the last of the setting sun. A non-conformist to the end. While I wouldn't really recommend this particular experience, I think similar events might have a little more structure in a comfortable venue. Add a couple of congenial companions and you've got a winner!