just like van gogh in arles!

...not exactly - in fact i'm pretty sure van gogh didn't have a wife and kids living with him when he did some of his most amazing work.  i picture van gogh as a poor, struggling, bi-polar, misunderstood artist who lived a wild night life with single guy friends and repaired to the morning, outdoor air for his daily dose of painting therapy.  i think i've just inspired myself to read more about his life - realizing i know so little about him - how easily i've distilled these snippets of one man's life into an iconic character through which i might assume a vicarious existence.  lord knows i'm not living that life at present.

i have transportation - my bicycle.  i have my paints, canvases, brushes, easels, and i've even located an art supplies store that has all i need to replenish my inventory (at very reasonable prices too i might add).

finding the art supplies store was no small feat however.  i set out on the metro (subway) and thirty minutes later popped up in the middle of old town suzhou.  using the google translate app on my phone i was able to plead sweetly enough with a jewelry shop owner's daughter to take pity on me.  she listened patiently until something i said in mandarin made sense.  after that, she knew what to do and how to look up where the store was located.  she even wrote down the address in chinese characters so i could hand it to a taxi driver.  in my case, it was easier to hail a scooter and hop on behind the driver.   this had multiple unforeseen benefits: 1) scooters can fit in narrow alleyways which makes for a "video game" type of fun, 2) by scooting through the alleyways, i realized how safe these travel corridors were, and 3) carly told me that i'm not single and as carefree anymore (i'm paraphrasing for sure) as in the old days when i could jump on the back of a scooter in thailand to get from one town to the next.  it felt good to realize that i can have a family and enjoy the domestic pleasures that go with it AND also honor my independence and spirit of adventure.  along these lines, while i'm not putting on a flying squirrel suit any time soon and souring through the french alps, i'm not completely divided from the concept of risk.  being comfortable with an existence that is not 100% guaranteed is to accept the frailty of life - a practice i thoroughly endorse.

several days later i introduce carly and the kids to the narrow alleys...

as i headed out the door one beautiful august morning, little did i know that in addition to painting my first canvas on the street, i would also have the opportunity to try chicken feet.  i know what you're thinking: who doesn't love gnawing on a marinated chicken foot in the company of friends?  apparently not me, though not without trying them i assure you.

i order three feet and notice my appetite for the remaining two waning as i nibble the last toe on the first.

the following scene for my first painting was chosen since it included the chicken feet restaurant (they also had tofu and beer) and was across the canal from the heavy foot traffic of tourist lane / district pingjiang lu.  this helped keep the amount of onlookers to a minimum, though still failed to deter dozens of the more curious who would cross the bridge, pass the tables and steaming pots of chicken feet, and settle behind me to watch each and every brush stroke.  at times this was a distraction, if only inside my head.  other times, tourists (all chinese by the way) would seek interaction and tell me they liked my painting or wanted to take my picture with my painting or with them.  i learned however that my job as a street painter was to be mildly irritated with these tourists and not smile.  my image to them was enhanced if i took my job seriously and in this case it's all about the painting.  that said, i didn't do my job very well and very much enjoyed stopping to talk with people of all ages.

i liked the red lanterns on the building to the left immensely and was rather looking forward to putting them in the painting but didn't know when that moment would come.  and then what do ya know, a little boy comes up to look at the painting and he just stands there patient and eager to glimpse the entire scene - a mini celebration of beauty, reflection, a work in progress, and an excuse to gather and point.  he was cute and his energy youthful and vibrant - four strokes of the brush with unmixed cadmium red et voila!

there were two other memorable encounters that day.  at one point, it rained for about fifteen minutes.  i bought a large technicolor umbrella for this possibility and while waiting for the storm to pass, was approached by two college girls who offered to hold the umbrella while i paint.  i accepted and felt quite honored.  and then on separate occasion, after i finished my painting which i celebrated with a cold beer on a rather warm day, a man contemplated the painting while smoking his cigarette.  he told me he liked it and asked how much it would cost him to buy.  i was unprepared and said i didn't know. he said nothing more, nodded, and then wandered into the bustle.

i've had a few other experiences with street painting and it is always interesting.  when i look at any of those paintings, i am reminded of the many faces and expressions that neighbored the easel.  i recall the cormorant fisherman leaving the mahjong gathering, paddling his boat and birds east.  he passes the garbage boat (residents throw trash out their windows into the canals.  the trash that floats is picked up by these two men - one steers / propels the boat by pushing and pulling a long wooden oar back and forth while the other reaches into the water with a skimmer pole) and as he does, offers a friendly gesture of casual conversation.  his voice is deep and grounded like an oak tree, the tenor of his girth reflecting his ability to acquire more than rice for his evening meal.

or the women periodically washing their mops in the canal.  and then there's megan, who recently moved from japan to old suzhou with her husband, still unpacking boxes and settling in.  to share a few sentences every half hour with a new friend, to receive offers of refreshment and snacks, and lastly to simply putter about (for me, painting / for her, hanging the laundry and attempting broken mandarin with her ayi) in adjacent spaces - peaceful, purposeful enough, and social in a silent way.

here's a couple photographs of some of the places i've painted along with the paintings they inspired.  i hope you enjoy them.

the cormorant fisherman greets the garbagemen:

megan settles into old suzhou: