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Big vistas, jagged peaks, rough trails and flowering alpine meadows draw me outside to paint. Even before I began painting, I had a few dozen 14er’s and 13er’s under my belt. And decades of ski patrolling gave me the eye to follow the line of the slope as if I were skiing it, climbing it or glissading down it. If I were up there, where would my next steps land?

That, coupled with the trees and vegetation in each ecosystem on the way up and down, informs my eye, my brush, the stroke and gesture of the paint laid down. Asking the question: what angle is it, what color is it right now, in shadow and sunlight? And to grab it in that moment, before the earth spins so much the color changes.

That’s the immediacy of the plein air experience. The window of information shifts silently and persistently, and is significantly noticed at about the 2 hour mark. So the clock is ticking. Grab your drawing, get your shadow shapes laid in solid, note the light. Now, stand back, and observe the play of