Daily Painting

I've been obsessing with Charles Reid, and very excited about his Maine workshop in September. I am nervous as well, as I expect that more mature artists are likely to attend it, not beginners like me, only with a year or two of experience. When I signed up, I had a nightmare that I was the worst in the class. I am reading his books, watching his videos, and trying, trying, trying, to learn from him - contour drawing, seeing values not objects, dipping my paintbrush into moist paint, not a hard brick, and also understanding what he doesn't say - that he doesn't paint a rectangle of a painting, filling up every inch of paper. He leaves a lot of areas white, and the edges of his paintings don't touch the edges of his paper. I am copying his work, doing his tutorials, and my hand and brain is trying to learn HIM.

Ten days ago, the plein air group went to Coyote Valley Preserve. I got there late, after my BollyX class, and that was normal. Previously, it had never been a problem. I usually join the group late, and because I work quickly [need to slow down - there is NO deadline], I am able to do one or two paintings before lunch, and then be around for the show-and-tell which I really enjoy - the range of work and talent is outstanding. I feel I belong. This time, however, part of the group had split for "hike and sketch" and a couple of people were by the parking lot, doing their paintings. I felt the lack of groupism deflate me, and I just didn't want to be there. The drive had taken a half hour, so I forced myself to look around for a scene. I drove back along the way I had come, parked by the side of the narrow road, blocking traffic, and set up my chair in front of my car [at the risk of life and limb]. I did these two paintings. Quickly. And left afterwards - before lunch, b