So, I was on a roll with my waterfalls. I decided a third would make a satisfying triptych, and having not done much watercolour recently, decided I should have a go. It was more straightforward than I’d expected really, once I’d found the stinky old masking fluid and decided that it would just about do for my needs.
My focus was to try very hard to put in the full range of tones – I always struggle with getting really good darks into my watercolours, partly because I’m often too impatient to wait until everything dries and add to sections for good depths. This time I was conscious of that need, and worked at it; I think it paid off in the third image below.
Now I just need to find some wall space to hang them…
It’s nearing the end of the Easter break, and what with the ongoing Covid closures of interesting places, I’ve had time at home to sit and play.
I was a bit lost for inspiration, so thought I’d get the watercolours out and splash some paint around. I usually find this entertaining, and can always find something to do with the results. This time, rather underwhelmed by the outcome, chopping the image up and reassembling it seemed like a good idea. Here’s the outcome, before and after.
You would not believe how long it took to arrange the squares in an order I found pleasing!
I like how each little square seems to contain a complete landscape, skyscape or seascape in itself.
Yep, ‘Brimham Rocks‘, both literally and metaphorically for me. This is a significant sketch from 2013, when I’d recently started using watercolours. It records a really lovely day spent with friends in Yorkshire. The morning was spent at a climbing wall in Harrogate, which was great fun, followed by a walk and some ‘real’ climbing for our son (then aged 12) on the Rocks, let by the lovely Rhiannon.
I got out the sketchbook and sat myself down to wrestle with the scene. My sketch buddy Andy tells me that this was the moment when he (also present and, at the time, a lapsed artist) asked himself why on earth he wasn’t doing likewise. Soon after, he picked his pen and brushes back up in earnest, and continues to employ them with gusto to this day.
So, this sketch is a very welcome memory of a really great day out, and the pinpointing of a significant turning point in someone’s sketch history. I’m still delighted about that. For me it’s a reminder that actions have consequences, sometimes demonstrably positive, whether or not we know it, or intend it so, at the time.
While in Crete we walked to a beauty spot, Lake Kournas, the only lake on the island. It’s firmly on the tourist trail, and in high season is full of beach umbrellas and tanned bodies. Fortunately it was way too early in the season to have to compete with the hordes. This did not stop my companions from swimming in the chilly water, to the amazement and amusement of a few southern European tourists. Brits of a certain age can be both hardy and foolhardy.
I opted for the much warmer pursuit of painting the lake and surrounding hills. I already knew that this was a picture likely to stay firmly in the sketchbook, so for the first time I chose to span my view across two pages, and I’m pleased I did. The buildings gave me some difficulty, as did the shrubbery on the hillside, but frankly when does watercolour not present some kind of struggle? I’m quite pleased with the outcome overall – the water really was this turquoise and wonderfully clear.
This little sketch is an oldie, a quick slice of some watercolour portrait practice I was doing in 2015. I think I pinched the picture from a magazine; I was captured by the look of spontaneous joy on the boy’s face, and the feeling of cold imparted by his ruddy cheeks and bobble hat. Given how much time has passed since I painted this, this chap probably looks quite different today.
I do remember trying to figure out the flesh tones, and trying to calculate just how dark the darks needed to be under the chin, in the mouth, eyes and nostrils – and how to make them. Interestingly, I think it’s the darks which have been the most helpful in pulling this little sketch together.
Although it’s far from perfect, there’s something about this I still like, and it makes me smile.
Life has got in the way this last year, my ‘new’ job as a secondary school art technician has proved to be everything I’d hoped and more. The flip side is that although I’ve continued to make art, blogging has fallen by the wayside.
I’m hoping to redress the balance in 2019, to post on a more regular basis, and catch up with old blogging friends again.
To get the ball rolling, here’s a mixed media picture I did way back in the spring. It came initially out of a concept of using gold leaf with watercolour. The results were not entirely as expected, and the collage element of the girl’s dress came as a surprise, but I felt it fitted somehow with the renegade nature of the experiment. (The source of the patterned paper was a bag I’d saved, thinking it might come in handy sometime. For once I was right!) The salt treatment on the background didn’t quite work as hoped – I suspect that the paint was a bit too dry by the time I sprinkled it. All in all, it’s a strange picture, and I’m not sure what I think about it, even now that some months have passed. I do like the crispness of the profile though.
What I do know is that if I were to do this again, I’d be much more careful about where I applied the glue for the gold leaf. Although I stroked in downwards motions, the leaf seems to have its own ideas about where to stick!
Oh, so many issues with this one, but there are also some places where the watercolour did something unexpectedly pleasing, like the interesting backwashes and blooms, and the way the depth of colour changes on the woman’s hair. The colour choices were dictated by the leftover paint I had from the previous portrait I’d done, and it was refreshing to use so much pink, which rarely features in my sketches.
I’m still feeling at the mercy of the paint, letting it have its way while I try to create opportunities for accidents and chance evolutions to happen. It’s a risky business, and success is definitely not guaranteed!
The weirdest thing is that this has more than a hint of Jots from a Small Apartment’s latest watercolours, yet I did this one before that post. Synchronicity! I love it when that happens.
Keep it simple, stupid, was my motto today. I was aiming for suggestion rather than detail, and fluidity. I took a variety of photos from the internet as a starting point, three colours of tube paint and my favourite round brush – what came out wasn’t quite what I’d imagined, but I’ll take it nonetheless as a stepping stone.
Ultimately, I’d like to get something approaching Shelley Morrow’s beautiful watercolour forms, but I fear that’s going to take some time and a lot of practice! Shelley’s blog/website is well worth a look…inspirational stuff for me, at least.
Trawling the internet, looking for an image for watercolour practice, I came upon a black and white photo with a 60s vibe. It was a good opportunity to have freedom over colour choices without feeling the need to obey colour prompts from the source photo. As you can see, I drew pencil guidelines first, to alleviate the worry of trying to get proportion right in paint. Once again, employing my favourite round brush, I used the pigment still in my palette from a previous portrait. This meant I kept to a handful of colours, mixing happily to get that pistachio.
It’s easy to see where things went well and fluidly, and where the struggles were. I really like the spontaneity, looseness and colour flows of the legs and umbrella, but wish I’d had an easier time with the face. The umbrella handle was lifted out afterwards with a small flat brush, as I forgot to leave it white, but actually I don’t mind, as it’s less stark than it would have been if I’d left the paper blank. All in all, this was a good session.
Another quick portrait of one of the lovely yoga ladies, this one a bit of a struggle as I was trying to be freer with the paint and strokes of the flat brush. However, I did have fun with her glasses, and the raspberry hue of that snuggly jacket. I like the warmth it gives to the whole.
It turns out that teeth are surprisingly difficult, a fact I’m sure anyone who’s experienced at painting portraits could have told me. I’ll have to remember that, and find some strategies for dealing with them.