Ponte innebbiato

In autumn last year, around Halloween, I felt the itch to paint. Around that time of the year, the Pianura Padana, where I lived, gets drowned in fog. The region is close to the sea level and huge bodies of water, like the Po(which I painted here). Once temperatures sink, all that humidity manifests through fog.

Earlier, on my daily walks, I had noticed the riverbed near me had become very shallow. It wasn’t long before the idea to paint on it formed in my mind. Like a little parasite, it sat there, egging me on. So, one day, I had enough and just did it.

At the start of this painting, I could see what lay in front of me. It was cold and wet, sure, but at least you could see.

Well, around 30 minutes into the painting, that changed. The fog built up and started rolling in all around me. The already-wet air became even more humid, so much so that it was almost as if I was standing in rain. When oil paint gets wet, it starts breaking down and becomes this textured, clumpy paste. Some of that started happening, but the most jarring thing was the loss of sight. I couldn’t see anything anymore, not even my own hands. So naturally, the painting changed accordingly. I took the split-second decision to roll with it, excuse the pun, and put the fog in instead of fighting it.

I think that was the right decision. I like the final painting; it reminds me of the muddy steps I took into the riverbed, of the mud that clung to my shoes as I climbed back out, all the way to my car. I remember how I cleaned my shoes off on the wet grass and how my jacket clung to my skin thanks to the humidity. It was a unique experience; I wouldn’t have had it any other way. It was also the first time I got to walk around in a river, a pretty cool feeling, if you ask me.

This is how it started, pretty clear visual

The fog started rolling in, it came to a point in which I couldn’t see my own hands anymore

This painting is available in my store here. I’d love for it to bring in a bit of that mystery I felt while painting it, in the home it’ll end up in.

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Campo di grano - Carpi