Plein Air Painting as Nervous System Regulation

I struggle to leave the house.

I don't know if it's that my city isn't super walkable, transit is broken, or that schizophrenia makes me sensitive to sounds, temperature, and the aggression of drivers, but most days I just stay home and paint.

And I've built a happy little world for myself indoors! Building the business, sharing work to social media, scrolling social media, networking on social media...maybe using social media a bit too much, actually.

I woke up one morning a few weeks ago and realized I'd hit a wall.

I'd just moved to North Dartmouth in August, and I hadn't seen friends in weeks. Hadn't gone for coffee. Hadn't really been outside at all. Something needed to change.

I'd been admiring the work of people like Mike Hernandez, who has greatly impacted my approach to landscape painting.

Mike Hernandez, and many more like him, are plein air painters. They pack up their easels and their gouaches and oil paints, and take to the mountains and the marinas and county fairs and paint outside. It's an exercise in artistic community-building and commitment to being present.

It slowly dawned on me that I too could use painting as a means to be in the world, not just observing it from afar.

In July, my partner Jessica and I camped at a beautiful spot on the Eastern Shore of Nova Scotia called Norse Cove. I brought my sketchbook. Again in August, I camped, this time at PEI National Park, and I sketched these drawings:

Over the course of the summer, I began to discover that there's something wonderful about sketching the world.

In our hyper-capitalistic hustle culture, I've often fallen prey to the mentality of needing to sell everything. Food costs are rising, and every dollar is squeezed out of me by scams and corporate algorithms. It makes sense that as a working artist, I need to consider what'll sell.

But my best, most liberated work, in my opinion, happens in my sketchbook – a place that by its very design, can't be listed for sale.

A book full of rough, incomplete, and un-marketable drawings brings me more joy and freedom than any completed gallery pieces.

Here are some of this summer's sketches:

It was when I started taking my sketchbook out on busy streets, walking almost daily with it, that I realized I was doing more than just training my eye. I was beginning, ever so marginally, to regulate my nervous system in public.

People are weird.

I've had men come up to me while I'm drawing, asking if I'm spying on the neighbourhood. I've had pickup trucks almost run me over while walking in marked crosswalks. And the deafening noise is the worst.

But drawing and painting from life gives my brain a focus – and allows me to exist in the world, interacting with my environment again.

Featured artist of the month:

I discovered Chad Eckersley (Sapo) a few days ago on Threads, where they shared this image:

I was blown away by the use of ink lines and watercolour here. The way the castle trails off into the distance, and watercolour washes fill in details without becoming overbearing. The brush control is incredible. Here are a few more:

This is someone who is very, very good at what they do. Go follow them!

Finally: exhibitions and shop discount codes.

I'm exhibiting 3 pieces at The Bonfire in Halifax this month, but the pieces can still be purchased online. The bonfire is a profit-sharing restaurant, which is kind of a neat feature. The food is good! Go check them out.

15% of the sale of "Hemlock Grove" goes to the Friends of Redtail Society, a wonderful non-profit from Pictou County Nova Scotia that protects some of the last big stands of old-growth hemlock trees in the province.

Lastly, subscribers get 15% off the store site-wide for eternity with the code: