🎶 No regrets, coyote.
I’m up on stage, easel in front of me propping up a giant blank canvas, paints and brushes ready for me to put them to work.
The band starts playing the music of Joni Mitchell, and my brush just starts moving intuitively, like it has a mind of its own. But I know better than that—it’s channeling my spirit.
The stage I’m on is at Bristol Valley Theatre, where Lauren and the Good Souls are playing a Joni Mitchell tribute show. When Lauren Faggiano called me a few weeks earlier to ask if I’d paint on stage while they played, I didn’t even hesitate. It was a full-body yes, without a conscious thought involved.
That was before my ego kicked in, as well as the questions from some of the people around me:
“What are you doing?”
“What happens if you get nervous and can’t paint?”
“What are you going to paint?”
By that time, though, my name was on the media promoting the show. I was committed.
So I asked myself what I always do: What’s the worst that could happen? My canvas could get knocked down. I could be booed off stage. Maybe they’d even pull me down with one of those giant hooks.
Or, maybe it could be great.
As I stood on stage painting, I sunk into the moment; into the stories Joni tells in her songs. My body settled into the rhythm—Coyote. Woodstock. Big Yellow Taxi. The Circle Game. They kept on playing; I kept on painting.
The whole night had a mystical quality to it and I let myself get lost in the magic. Painting in public wasn’t a new experience for me, but painting from the stage was. Yet I felt at home; like I was called here and was exactly where I was meant to be.
The painting evolved with ease and energy, and the room was filled with the joy and kindness that a shared love of music and creativity brings. We were all part of something bigger than ourselves that night—and really, what more could we ask for?
The music; the community; the creation—it was an experience that allowed me to enter into my high vibration, the place I talk about often where I hope all creatives can find themselves regularly. It’s a place where amazing things can happen if you let yourself follow the lead and say yes.
🎶 No regrets, coyote.
Speaking of painting in public: After three years of attending the Plein Air Convention & Expo (PACE), I’m beyond thrilled to go back for my fourth year as part of the faculty. I’ll be a field painter, positioned where people can observe me, ask questions, and where I’ll also be working my way around to provide feedback and help painters out.
It’s happening in May of 2026 in the Ozarks—and if you are at all interested in plein air painting, whether you’re a total novice or nearly an expert, I cannot encourage you enough to attend PACE. It will be an integral part of your growth and development as a painter, and you’ll get to meet, mingle with, and learn from some of the greats.
If you’re thinking about coming, reach out with any questions you have—and get $100 off your ticket by using the code PACE-HARRIS.