Two classes into a twelve-week art course, I felt inspired to use the idea of intersection art to depict a birds-eye view of a flower garden. Having water colour pencils and a water brush felt like a good combination to try it and practice control of moving this thin medium across the paper. Unfortunately, rather than using water colour paper, I opted to have it in my sketch pad but so far the paper is holding up the small amounts of moisture I am adding to it.
It has been worthwhile to practice watercolor with these pencils and the water brush. The pencils give me the control of where I am trying to lay the colour down, experimenting with the best directions to force the medium onto the page and the water brush does as it says, offering control over the amount of water on its bristles. They seem to be good tools for a student to gain some experience with this type of medium.
As I started with a pattern of concentric and intersecting circles, I kept coming back to imagining the faces of a garden in bloom looking skyward to birds or insects who fly overhead, looking down upon them. The vibrancy of coloured heads against a neutral and blurry backdrop. The intersects naturally forming the tear-shaped leaves reaching from stem to stem.
My first attempt with watercolor painting finally came to a finished product on April 19, 2022. I started this small painting sometime in August, some eight months previous when on a summer vacation day I began a watercolour painting offered online through the platform Domestika (thanks to Facebook advertising). The delivery of the course has not disappointed, nor has the affordable price tag. Alas, summer vacation came to an end, and with the busy-ness of another school year, my foray into watercolour painting was put on hold. My little monochrome bird was to wait to gain his final feathers. After some time and some extra practice in a new (live) art class I began a few weeks ago, I took some of my spring vacation time to return to my watercolour fascination.
I am discovering that I enjoy the softness you can create with this type of medium -- though controlling its definition is a knack that requires patience and practice. One thing I have learned, having taken a step back from this small piece, is that watercolour does not offer the imediate vision of a thicker, faster-drying medium like acrylic. I can't speak of oils, having no experience with it, but I can imagine it is likely similar to acrylic in that way. Watercolour requires time to dry, time to re-imagine, time to add life-giving layers.
Upon my re-imagining, I wanted to experiement with different brush strokes I learned in a lesson from this unit's work. The branch perch of this little bird took on the look of an evergreen common in this area. Rather than leaves or bare stems, the tones create the look of needles; perhaps pine or basalm fir? Similar trees stand adjacent to our driveway and the small birds always make their return this time of year. My happiest spring mornings leaving for work are when I open the door to hear their joyful songs. I can hear my little monochrome bird singing his morning song. In finishing, I practiced with some splatter effect which quickly told the story of a light springtime shower of rain. But not to dampen the spirits of this little birdie. Life is best dancing in the rain.
Summer Daisies
April 28/22
A Summer Vase
April 30/22
Mother's Blooms
May 8/22
Art journal blogger, Tracy Weinzapfel stumbled into my social media feed a short time ago, and it has done wonders for my confidence in using a blend of watercolour and ink. I love that she uses florals as her subjects given my love for anything that grows in soil or is placed in a table-top vase. Training my hand to create what I see with my physical eye (or my mind's eye) has been good for my artworks journey.
Watercolour paint
May 13, 2022
Watercolour paint
May 2022
Watercolour paint & watercolour pencil
November 19, 2022
Using cotton swabs as a brush for watercolour application, this technique presents a new way to create life forms with this medium, especially with florals. Once selecting my hue palette of purple, blue, and pink (with the slightest touch of yellow) my mind immediately had a vision of the hydrangeas growing near my front door; this is one of my favourites growing in my garden.
I was taken back to late July when heavy-headed blooms emerge, first in the lightest shade of summer green. I wait for it to deepen through shades of indigo, periwinkle, lavender, and rose. The unmistakable flower head with its blast of light, dead centre; like sunbeams piercing the cerulean sky. These are strong and dainty all at once - a paradox of botanical beauty.
The long-lasting blooms carry me through summer and into the autumn months. As the sunlight fades, evening air and the night sky closing in around the garden sooner with each passing day, these beauties do not. They remain unfading. Even in the last days of their season, with frost nipping at the green broadleaves crowding the bush, blackening their veins, the beautiful blue-lavender-rose shades mute to a blush. They stand to remind me that even when brightness and youth fade, the colour that once was lively gives way to this next shade. It is but another hue too. be admired.
Watercolour + ink pen on paper
7X8.5
February 2023
Watercolour paint
9X5.5
May 2023