We started with 3-minute gestures, moved on to 1-minute abstract 5-line drawings and finished with a 15-minute pose and a 35-minute pose. Kathryn brought us lovely, elegant poses, each one suited for the project at hand.
After making a light pencil sketch, I applied masking fluid to the areas I wanted to keep white on the sunny side of the tree, and in the little lichen-covered spots. Masking fluid protects areas of your painting from taking up paint, keeping the underlying paper white. Masking fluid goes on a liquid, dries into a rubbery solid, and is easily removed by rubbing it off with a gum eraser or your finger. When your painting is done & dry, you remove the masking fluid so you can add any last touches.
After reading Cathy Johnson's book, Creating Textures in Watercolors, I was inspired to try mixing Burnt Sienna with Ultramarine Blue to create a gray trunk color. I dropped in more Ultramarine Blue here and there to create shadows and a more varied wash.
As I explore watercolor painting, I remind myself to take the approach of Elon Musk in creating new rockets. In his early stages of development, Elon loses a bunch of rockets in fiery disasters, but he & his team learn from each "rapid unscheduled disassembly." In fact, Elon expects failures, stating, “If things are not failing, you are not innovating enough.”
As a result of his design iteration process, SpaceX successfully launches more rockets than any other company in the world, and, in 2020, became the first private company ever to carry U.S. astronauts to the space station.
I don't plan to make history, just to improve my painting skills. I don't fail as spectacularly as a rocket, but I have ruined some paper learning.
I recommend taking the SpaceX approach of trial and error and learning. And don't forget to find some inspiration from other artists ... or rocketeers!
I'm currently reading Cathy Johnson's book First Steps: Watercolor Painting (North Light Books, 1995). She shares her step-by-step approach for beginners to simplifying a landscape. I tend to get lost in details, wanting to include every knobby tree trunk and bowing weed stalk in a scene. I am happiest when I can fall into the tiniest features of some bit of nature -- an acorn or autumn leaf, for instance.
But with an entire landscape, I am learning to see & paint the larger forms first. What a relief not to expect myself to trace every bramble and bough in the landscape, but just to capture the spirit of the moment.
Saturday morning, I sat down with my paints at the kitchen counter and looked out the sliding glass door to the image above. The morning mists made the distant trees look hazy, and I focused mainly on Grandmother Sugar Maple -- the bushy looking tree on the left.
In years past, Grandmother Sugar Maple has provided us with gallons of sap to boil down into delicious, golden maple syrup. I have a special reverence for her, which deepened my painting experience.
Each painting is a learning opportunity. A chance to connect with nature. A chance to slow down. A chance to express ourselves.
I hope you will keep painting -- it leads to delightful discoveries!
I took a late afternoon slow walk with my nature journal in the state park yesterday, and wandered down a valley trail along a rolling creek. Stopping at an inviting creek side spot, I sat and listened to the water burble, sketched the scene, and fell into that sense of meditation that comes from connecting with nature in the present moment.
When sun sank, and I was out of time to draw, I snapped a photo of a particularly inviting tree trunk. This morning, I was able to instantly reconnect to the feelings of immersion in the enchanted woodlands as I sketched and painted that moss-covered, knobby tree trunk. A lovely way to start the morning.
