Plein Air Painting in Honfleur: Exploring Light and Atmosphere

In October, I spent a quiet week plein air painting in Honfleur, a charming town in northwestern France. I stayed in a cozy old bed-and-breakfast, accompanied by a big orange cat named Isaiah. I wanted solitude—to fully absorb my surroundings—and, honestly, stepping out of my comfort zone was a little intimidating. But I enjoy challenging myself, especially when it deepens my work.

Each morning, I wandered down to the Vieux Port with my watercolors. The old boats rocked gently in the harbor, gray-stacked houses with slate façades leaned over the water, and soft rain blurred edges, softened colors, and heightened the subtle drama of the scene. The port has inspired countless artists—Courbet, Boudin, Monet, Jongkind—and I felt a quiet kinship with them as I painted.

Painting in the rain slowed me down. I noticed fleeting details: the reflection of a mast in a puddle, the stillness of stacked fishing boats, the muted gray of stone buildings against bright splashes of paint on several vessels. Strong composition anchored my observations, giving me the freedom to follow the intuitive rhythm of my brush and allow the mood, texture, and energy of the scene to emerge naturally.

By the end of the week, Honfleur had seeped into my paintings and into me—its light, its atmosphere, and its quiet tension reflected in every brushstroke. The experience reaffirmed why I paint: to capture fleeting emotional truths, explore subtle tension, and create work that resonates beyond the moment.