A Place Among the Professionals: Third Place at Steamboat Plein Air

In September 2024, I loaded up my easel, paints, and a week’s worth of nerve and drove from Miami, Fl. to Steamboat Springs, Colorado.

There, over the course of six days, 52 artists participated in the Steamboat Plein Air Festival, a juried competition hosted by the Steamboat Art Museum. Each artist was challenged to complete and submit up to six plein air paintings—works created entirely on location, with the clock and the sky as constant collaborators.

Of those 52 artists, 26 competed in the Professional Division.

I was one of them.

This was my first full plein air event. I’d dabbled in quick paints, participated in juried shows, and painted en plein air for years. But this was the first time I stepped into the field as a professional—with structure, stakes, and a silent question pressing against every brushstroke:

Could I hold my own?

The Answer Was in the Doing

We painted under shifting skies and shifting pressure—early mornings, late light, roadside wildflowers, creekside shadows. We painted for the joy, yes—but also for the gallery walls waiting at the end of the week.

The Steamboat Art Museum staff made every part of the experience smooth, warm, and deeply intentional. They were incredibly organized and each day they had a painting event that artists could participate in. Each event was hosted by an organization within the community which in turn brought interest to our work as artists. They also created a space where artists could work hard and still feel held. And over those six days, strangers became peers, and peers became friends.

When it came time for the awards reception, I was exhausted, paint-splattered—and proud of what I had created. Still, I didn’t expect what came next.

Third Place, Professional Division

When Susie Baker, our juror and a celebrated artist herself, announced the awards, I heard my name.

Third Place – Professional Division.

I blinked. My heart jumped. I smiled.

In that moment, I realized I had crossed an invisible threshold—from hoping to be seen to being seen.

The result overall? 70% of my work sold, and I was commissioned for a new piece. These weren’t just wins. They were affirmations. Markers on the map of an artistic life that’s starting to feel more grounded—and more real—by the day.

A Line in the Paper, A Shift in the Soul

The Steamboat Pilot & Today mentioned me in their event coverage—a small footnote, maybe. But for me, it meant everything. Because for the first time in a long while, I wasn’t wondering if I belonged in a room like that.

I was in the room. And I left it changed.

 

—

Explore Rose daRosa’s world of plein air painting and still life at rosedarosa.com — original works, new releases, and upcoming shows. See what she’s painting next.