Shelton Babe Ruth Baseball-the black shirts team. My son Aidan is number 21. I can’t think of better day to paint outside than on a sunny 80 degree fall day. The Autumn sun saturates the field in rich green hues. The mix of oil paint, cut grass and sun-baked earth are intoxicating. (no, it’s not the turpentine.)
Nice coaches, teammates and parents make this a very pleasant outing each game. So far this fall I’ve had the chance to paint at two games. I should be able to get a few more in before the season is over. That’s coach Kling keeping score below.
These oil sketches have to be painted very quickly since everyone moves about. When it’s 3 up and 3 out that bench clears out in about ten minutes.
These two I did last year. Late in the season it dawned on me that I should be standing and painting these picturesque genre scenes instead of sitting in one of those god awful portable canvas chairs that kills my back. The artist in me loves the challenge of capturing color, light and movement.
The field above is called West Rock. A beautiful scenic park just north of New Haven. Or maybe it’s west of New Haven? It gets confusing around there because that area of town not only is New Haven, but is West Haven, North Haven, and East Haven. I’m told there is no South Haven because South of the epicenter of New Haven is the long island sound.
This last painting is the field in Milford just behind the court houses. These are seven inning games and when it’s “Game Over” my subject matter packs up and goes home.