Chasing inspiration

It seems that every piece of artwork, whether spontaneous or planned, is born from trying to capture a feeling that I have experienced in nature. When I am out, immersed in the elements, the artist in me is sensitive and my eyes ever-wandering, looking for the perfect compositions scattered all around. It could be a short drive on a dreary gloomy day or a walk in the woods, but no matter its duration or whether I have the chance to indulge my artistic senses or not, part of me remains alert to collect little pieces of inspiration. In the magnificence of endless natural beauty, I carry the idea that the greatest masterpieces already exist in every detail of our world, a million times over, from the microscopic to vast landscapes. That does not require a breathtaking view every time, but having it in you to find unexpected gems.

As an artist it is within my control to zoom in, zoom out, to notice and linger, to collect. Lens at work: my eyes and camera know that this is the time to get as much as possible. Primarily, it is key to be present and actively admiring my surroundings, because that is what will anchor me back when I am creating at home. When I am on foot, I get the chance to take many good reference photos. Those are extremely valuable and I am always leaning on photos I've taken from my trips. A sketchbook, too, becomes indispensable for the textures and patterns I will only notice then, sensory details that would be lost unless I stop to record them in markings. This is why I have come to expect that I will need a sketchbook when I go on drives, because the photos can turn out a desperate disappointing blur. With a pen in hand, I can usually translate these abstract inklings, lines of the leaves and trees and whatever spoke to me before it passed me by.

Physically we cannot notice it all, and sometimes it is hard even to grip a few details and not let them fade away. That is the fleeting nature of it. I have found myself many times scrambling for my phone to take a picture out the window before a particular tree is already gone; or, when driving by the ocean, training my eyes on the waves, to watch their patterns form again and again, so that it is ingrained in my mind. All so that I could go back and paint these things, hoping to also leave a mark of my own vision and essence infused into it, communicating what I saw that was special in the first place. It is from this interaction with nature and allowing myself to be moved by it that I have interesting points to start creating from, to go on journeys that excite me.