I’m back. It’s been a while. I haven’t been painting as much a I had hoped, but summer is like that. There is so much other stuff to do- garden, eat outside, play darts, mow the lawn, sit under a tree and read, just stuff.

But summer is also the time for plein air painting. Are there any problems with that? Nothing one would anticipate other than safety issues. Yet, lurking in the background, are a host of other things that can put a damper on the outing. First, depending on where you go, ticks can be a serious issue. That is not fun when they are climbing up your legs en mas. Next, could be goose poop. Wow, that stuff is nasty.

But then there are the people. Yes, people who decide that you are not welcome to paint near them. Not other painters, homeowners.

For example, when I was at Cape Cod, MA., our class was going to paint at the museum up on the hill. We had permission, and it was going to be quite the view. But upon arrival, there was a power outage that prevented us from entering the museum. It was closed until the power issue was resolved. So we went down the hill, and painted on the side of the street. Buildings, houses, in the morning light are always nice to paint. So we all set up on the side of the street and got to work. But within half an hour, out came a homeowner and said he had to mow the lawn and we would all have to move. Really?? But, hey, we did, and he did his mowing. Now, I’m just saying….. he had to do it right then? Maybe, but maybe not.

So this past Thursday, a friend and I went out to paint at a place someone had recommended. It was a beautiful park in the back of a wonderful neighborhood, with grounds that go right down to a peaceful river. Nice place, except that it is August, and there isn’t a whole lot of color happening. The grass was green, surprisingly for August, the trees were green, and the river was brown and muddy. Not particularly attractive to me. We had some trouble finding said place, and had driven around some nice neighborhoods. Funny thing though, the police kept showing up wherever we were. Mind you, I am in my mid fifties, and my friend is seventy going on fifty. Anyways, we decided to go back to a house that had beautiful gardens in the front yard, and all around the edge of the street. There were eight foot tall sunflowers, blue morning glories, sun-chokes, black eyed susans, and pink cone flowers. It was spectacular. So we parked on the side of this little street, and got out to set up. Of course, here comes a police car, watching us from a short distance. I walked over to his car, and explained what we wanted to do, and asked if it was a problem. He chuckled, and said he couldn’t see why it would be any problem, and to let him know if there was.

We were happy, and set up in 2 locations. My friend wanted to get closer to the sunflowers, so she set up over on that side of the street at the edge of the flowers, a driveway and the street. Not in anyone’s way. I was across the street because I wanted to get the mailboxes (three) with all the flowers surrounding them. These people must be really cool to have such wonderful gardens and nice house, thought I.

So we got going, and it was getting pretty hot, as we had driven around longer than intended. I got a decent start, and I could see she did too. The mailman came and put mail in the mailboxes just as I was starting, but that was a short inconvenience. Friend Ellen got a little hot, so she went to sit in the shade of the van for a couple of minutes. Suddenly this minivan comes tear-assing down the street and screeches up to the mailboxes. He almost clipped Ellen’s easel, but missed. I stood there motionless, hoping against hope that this fool wouldn’t do what I thought he might. NO SUCH LUCK. He puts the van in reverse, steps on the gas, and BACKED into Ellen’s set-up. Now why, you might ask, would someone do that? I couldn’t move- I was in shock. Ellen jumped up and ran over to her stuff- which was all over the place. Shockingly, nothing was broken. Her old sentimental french easel was good. Her glass palette was intact, and just her painting had some debris stuck in the paint. This man, young, probably around 38-40, acted like he was really sorry and didn’t know we were there. Again I ask, REALLY?????? I didn’t believe that for one second.

What is it about artists painting that makes other people angry? Oh yes, he was angry. He jumped back in the van without warning, sped off, only to turn around and come