Wet Paint Festival Reception: A Ball of Paintings and a Message from the Trees

Wet Paint Festival Reception: A Ball of Paintings and a Message from the Trees

Today, I attended the reception for the Wet Paint Festival Exhibition at the Reboli Center. I usually attend these events with a quiet purpose: to make sure my painting is safely and respectfully displayed. It’s also a chance to reconnect with fellow artists I’ve met in the field.

There’s a special atmosphere at this kind of show. Seeing the works—many of which I first glimpsed in their raw, unfinished state—now beautifully framed and lit, feels like attending a grand ball of paintings. Each piece takes its place on the wall like a guest in their finest attire. I was relieved and grateful to see my own painting hanging steadily on the left wall of the main hall.

Plein air painting is all about spontaneity. You must capture inspiration from nature, light, and the mood of the moment—right then and there. I find something deeply moving in this immediacy. That’s why I’ve joined this event for a second time.

When I paint outdoors, the messages from nature come quietly. The sound of birds, the feel of the breeze, the changing shadows—they speak, if you listen. The message that came to me this time was one of connection with the past.

There are moments in life that we don’t understand at the time—sadness, injustice, pain. We try to make sense of them, but nothing clicks. And then, one day, it does. As I painted this tree, I realized something:

“Why did it hurt so much back then? Why did I feel so helpless?”

This tree stood tall, even as vines and branches tried to wrap around it, even as its space was invaded. Still, it held its ground. And as I painted, I heard it say:
​
“I endured. I survived.”

Tears welled up as I painted, quietly and unexpectedly. This tree, like so many of us, clung to every moment—not just to survive, but to create something beautiful out of all that struggle.

The patience, dignity, and quiet strength of that tree moved me deeply. Isn’t that what life is?

After the reception, my family and I visited the nearby area that had recently suffered severe flood damage. Everything had been swept away. Debris, sand, and silence remained. But even in that desolate landscape, a small stream had begun to flow again. And on it—ducks and egrets had returned, dancing their gentle ballet on the water.

Life and nature are like that.

They endure. They return. They create beauty again.
And so does art.

That’s why I painted this tree—not only to capture a moment, but to leave a message. A message that says:
​
“It’s not over. It becomes eternal.”

I hope this exhibition has given others a chance to feel what I felt—to reflect, to reconnect, and to witness the quiet beauty that perseverance can create.