At times, I stood with a group of onlookers. It was not the usual carnival con game
where you wished for a stuffed animal but were given a consolation prize,
another Chinese finger pull. No, it was unusual even for a
carnival. Perhaps that’s why oglers
of all ages were attracted. As a
10-year-old I was first charmed by
the scent of the oil paint; the allure was as enigmatic as the grease paint of
the circus. It enflamed my
romantic imagination, and I wished
I could join the carnival and live in a trailer. I had to elbow my way through the crowd to get a close-up
view. Oftentimes overhearing
someone denounce a brushstroke “Oh no, she’s ruined it;” and hoping the artist
was deaf to the insensitive comment.
The artist, from Pittsburgh, Kansas, traveled with the
carnival that came each August to the Osawatomie Fair. She painted several imaginary, canned landscapes
similar to Bob Ross while her husband
created inexpensive wooden frames and wrapped the finished pieces in newspaper
for the proud collector. Each
painting probably cost no more than ten or twelve dollars. The act of watching the artist create
the painting was the value of a purchase.
Many years later, I was asked to paint live. In spite of my self-doubt, I
prepared to make my debut. I
watched other abstract expressionists on YouTube. Initially, I painted for a group of artist friends;
graduated to a club meeting; and then to the general public. Like the Pittsburgh artist, I
verbalized my actions, answered questions and kept the group engaged. I gathered a trunk load of
supplies and set up my easel at the local farmer’s market. I had arrived. I was emulating my childhood artist,
except for the style, my genre being abstract expressionism. As it turned out, I had to stop
the live performances at farmer’s market as it just was not lucrative. But I learned I can do this. I love challenges.
I am still motivated to paint live for a group meeting or
just for entertainment. Have
paint, will travel, the carnival’s back in town.
