First Impressionisms

During the pandemic, on a typical morning on Lumley Unit, a fight broke out. Two women from different yards crossed paths and decided to work out their beef by pummeling each other. Staff told us we would be locked down for the rest of the day so I decided to use the gift of this timeout to start a painting I’d been thinking about for a while.

I wanted to make something bigger than the 9×12-inch drawing paper I usually worked with. I bought an extra set of sheets years earlier during a fundraiser, so I cut a big rectangle from it and tacked it to my bulletin board, like a makeshift easel. The board was mounted high. I stood on my chair to get eye level and went to work using an impressionist style.

I had made an impressionist painting once before, circa 1997 (yikes—almost thirty years ago). I used a canvas board, which sat on an actual easel—flimsy but usable—and I wondered if I could fudge my way through this impressionist thing. The finished piece looked like impressionism, but would trained eyes know I was a total newb?

I named it City of Light. Even as a teen, I used elements of fantasy in my art. Here, a celestial city floats on clouds in the sky. Note the cross in the center (as if a heavenly city would prominently display a torture device). I was very Christian as a teen.

A corner of my cluttered bedroom was dedicated to my easel and art supplies. Here, the muse and I communed. Almost the moment I sat down on my small black stool before a stretch of canvas, flow set in. My room had south- and west-facing windows, which let in lots of bright natural light.

Today, I listen to podcasts or an audiobook while I make art, but in the nineties, podcasts were not a thing and I had yet to discover the possibilities of “books on tape.” I had music, but it wasn’t playing because another thing I remember so keenly about painting City of Light was hearing snippets of Days of Our Lives carried over from my parents’ bedroom across the hall.

The next time I tried my hand at impressionism was in 2020, the day of the above-mentioned fight. For this piece, I used only black and white paint, lending it the feel of a fading dream. (Side note: I don’t dream in black and white and I’m sure you don’t, either.)

I didn’t finish it that day, but I worked on it all afternoon. My 70-year-old roommate watched between intermittent power naps. An audience would usually hamper my flow, but she didn’t bother me.

The Clearing was so named not simply because a clearing is depicted through the dark woods, but because this clearing seems to beckon the viewer out from the shadows and into illumination.

My intention was not to list this original painting. I wanted to make it, get it scanned, and offer prints. My friend in Florida agreed to scan it, so I mailed the painting to him, but he never honored his agreement. He delayed the scan several times and kept changing the date that he would do it. Given my vulnerable position and lived experience (i.e., how many times I’ve been screwed over because of my vulnerable position), this kind of sketchy behavior sets off alarms inside me. So when he continued to move the goal post, I insisted he send it to my art admin in Iowa.

Why didn’t I just send it there to begin with? Because my art admin ships art, and The Clearing wasn’t for sale. In fact, I would have let my Florida friend keep it if he had only kept his word.

My trusty admin took the painting to a print shop and had it professionally scanned. The high-resolution file made beautiful prints, and I included The Clearing in my 24-postcard set.

In early 2021, my art admin had a custom black frame made for it because of its nonstandard size: 23×37.5 inches, or 58.4 × 95.25 centimeters, or almost-but-not-quite 2×3 feet. He hung it in his bedroom, where it adorned the wall for five years, lending its dreamy vibe to the space where he dreamed.

But dreams aren’t meant to last, and a girl’s gotta make some lawyer money, so we have finally decided to list The Clearing at JodiArias.com. It comes with the custom frame, of course, and the price includes shipping.

I have a new idea for an impressionist painting, this one in color. I’m drawn to how light plays in the canopy of trees, and how thousands of strategic dabs of paint can capture this effect. If I ever paint it, I’ll share it here with you.