On my drive home from a session in the Columbia Gorge, I made a spontaneous stop at Rooster Rock to catch the sunset and take a few photos. There, I met Neil Perry, quietly painting along the Columbia River.
He shared his journey with Plein Air painting and the story behind it:
 
 
"I only started doing Plein Air painting after my wife, Susannah, passed away in 2023. Her high-school art teacher, Kevin Gleason, is a Plein Air painter and he shows his work at the gallery Susannah and I opened together in 2012. He was a hugely positive influence on her love of the arts, as well as a very lovely person."
 
 
Neil had only painted outdoors once before, in his twenties, and it didn’t go well. With Kevin’s guidance, he learned a new approach:
"Kevin told me not to try and capture everything exactly as I see it, but to try and express an idea of being there. Everything around you is changing and moving all of the time, and you will never reproduce it exactly, so feel free to move things and change things if they feel better some other way. I am used to painting from reference photos where nothing ever moves, and this process is so different. It’s about being in the place and trying to convey how it feels rather than how it looks. From a perspective of navigating grief, it provides a solid block of time when you are problem solving and focusing, and it can be a very nice vacation for the mind."
 
Focusing on the feeling of the moment, not just what meets the eye.
 
Neil keeps an easel and painting set in his car, “in the hope of finding as many quiet moments in beautiful places as I possibly can.” On the day we met, he said:
"I had been having a difficult day, and I didn’t have any plans for the rest of the evening. I didn’t want to go straight home after closing up the gallery because I felt like that would make for a long night ahead. The sky was pretty gloomy in Portland, but I took a chance and drove out on I-84 along the Columbia River and I was pleased to find such a stunning scene unfolding."
 
 
Even on a gloomy day, the Gorge offers moments of unexpected beauty.
 
 
Neil reflected on what these moments mean:
"Susannah and I visited the Gorge together as often as we possibly could; it was our quiet escape together without having to go too far afield. Being there always makes me feel close to her."
 
A personal ritual of remembrance and connection.
 
Reading about Susannah, I was struck by the depth of her creativity and dedication to the arts. She was a talented gallerist, curator, and artist whose vision and generosity shaped a community of artists. Neil’s story is a living testament to the love and artistry they shared, and how creation can carry memory and healing forward.
 
 
On the drive home, I cried. But I also felt inspired.
Watching Neil paint that day, hearing his story, I was deeply moved. I felt tears, but also inspiration - a reminder of why Bryan and I do what we do.
Photography - personal work or business - grounds us, helps us process, and allows us to hold close what matters most. It’s in these quiet, creative moments that we reconnect with love, memory, and the heart behind the work.
 
In these quiet moments, creation becomes a bridge to memory and love.
 
Neil’s story and his art - alongside the life Susannah shared with him and the community they built through Antler & Talon Gallery - are reminders that art connects, heals, and carries the memory of those we love forward.
📍 Columbia Gorge//Rooster Rock- with gratitude to Neil Perry for allowing me to share this glimpse into his journey. Explore more at Antler & Talon Gallery
Explore Art by: Neil Perry
 
Neil’s painting captures not only the view, but the feeling of being there -
a tribute to Susannah and their shared love of art.
 
"Being there in the Columbia Gorge always makes me feel close to her." — Neil Perry