Peaches - A litte story.

The following is a short story of an adventure that I had about the age of perhaps 5 on the old flight field at Weaksville, North Carolina. We were on base and my dad at that time was flying blimps. So sit down for a bit, and let me tell you a story- it would be so much better with illustrations- perhaps later. So lets begin this little story.

PEACHES

It was going to be quite an adventure to gather up all those peaches or almost peaches. It had been just a couple of days earlier when that aroma captured my scents and carried me on a short walk to the trees laden down with blossoms, smelling so sweet that they must all turn to peaches in time.

Not having a wagon, it took me a bit of time until my long eyes noticed one down the street that at that time looked as if no one was using. It must be lonely all alone down there so why not allow it to go on an outing with me. Off I marched down the sidewalk taking the handle of that wagon and setting off for yet another adventure.

Being a rather nimble child, I pulled myself up to the branches that my out stretched arms could reach and lifted myself up. At first, I laid back and allowed myself to drift into the blossoms and take myself away to the places that my mind seemed to find such safety in. In time, I began my task of removing blossom after blossom-watching as they got caught in the air drifting back and forth until finally they lay as if asleep in my borrowed wagon. It did not take long to see the blossoms fall softly onto the ground telling me that my share had been taken.

Thus being a very proud child, I almost pranced on my way home. My bare stretched out chest leading the way home in the hot sun . From the back door my mother waved to me. When I was within ear's shot, she called to me to ask me what I was up to now.
In my spirited voice, I replied, "Look I have gathered blossoms that surely will turn into peaches."
My mother looked down at me and gently smiled kindly at me, "Oh my, they will not make peaches- they are just mimosa tree blossoms."
My heart sank but my will was not broken.

Quietly, I left pulling that over laden wagon of blossoms to a secret place that I certainly called my own. The wagon was turned on it's side allowing me to be amongst the blossoms. Deeply, I inhaled the scent and then sang sweet songs to them knowing that if really given the chance they would be peaches and I would become a princess as well.

So how did this story end? Oh you know, as I push my crown slightly back on my head.

See you around town,
Janet

A Closeup of a Brich Tree- Another Watercolor Lesson

Another week, and this week, I might say that I am almost proud of this work. It went smoothly, and each step that I did seemed to have been at the right time or close enough.

If I were to select one part that I felt the most successful with it would be the lower left hand corner. The natural white of the paper is fresh and clean and the shadow softly drops across that area.

There are of course lessons learned, but I think this week I will sit and admire my work- I will not be so lucky on my next pieces and know that there will be struggles until once again the paint and I see clearly and allow the earth's rotation to do the painting.

Peace to my friends who stop by.
See you again soon,
Janet

Another week of watercolor classes.

Waiting for Spring

This week for class we were to choose our own subjects from a scene or otherwise. Certainly, most everyone on the East Coast would say that this has been a snowy week - hence the subject matter.
I tried my hand at a very complex piece prior to starting this one. I so wanted to paint my old sled from when I was younger (much much younger) and our garden shed here at home. It has been said that if one identifies with their subject matter the painting will flow more naturally.

For this attempt, I fell sadly short of expectation.

After searching through current photos of the snow, I decided that my skills were not ready yet for such work so I decided to go back to what is most important the basics. I chose this exercise of winter with some summer beach chairs. It included basic wash skills, a horizon line with trees, an attempt at ice and a detailed interesting image in the foreground.

All in all, I was pleased with the painting, however; there were lessons learned.

The ice should reflect the color of the sky - it would have created a more harmonious painting had the ice been darker. The horizon line has weaknesses, but the reflection was there. The chairs were fun and even though the images were copied from a photo, I was pleased that they had those good composition qualities of overlapping and interlocking. I am pleasantly pleased with this youthful work, but most pleased as it feel neatly into place as if I knew were I was going.

Painting is fun! Painting is hard! Painting is good!
It is good! It is all good!

See you around town.
Janet

Goodnight Moon

After the Oatmeal box, I needed a break and was granted one with this next week's exercise!
We were to bring in several photos that had elements that we had been studying. That was pretty easy for me to choose as I enjoy washes and completing a sphere is always a good exercise- so a moon on a black background was my choice.

As I mentioned earlier, I needed a bit of a break from detail. I do not believe that realism or photorealism will be a form of painting that I will pursue; however, I certainly see the advantages of being able to execute a painting in this manner. So, anyway, back to the moon.

I enjoyed this little exercise and gave me a bit of satisfaction to have competed it easily and without too many complications.
Now, on to another piece- perhaps something a bit more complicated.

It is good.
Yes, it is all good.

See you tomorrow.
Janet
waves as she watches your cars speed by.

Watercolor - Lesson 3 - 3 Pigments

This is a Quaker Oatmeal Box for which I have great respect for the creator; however, after a week of painting it, I am not so sure how I feel about oatmeal anymore. Big Sigh.

This week our exercise was to paint this box on a green background using only 3 pigments. I am not at all satisfied with my piece and I felt that most of the time that we spent together was more of a battle than an exercise from which one is to receive enjoyment.

In class today, my piece received praise, I will not praise it here so let me critique now.

• First of all it is over worked and there is no "fresh skin" in this piece- that is the first and foremost error. Not knowing where you are going and trying to get there fast does not make a good painting.


• Second, even though the greens are not horrid, the values are not even and the washes are overworked again. If one can make a wash that can be executed the first time - oh what success. Twice is ok, but after that, it just doesn't get any better. Thinking back to the instruction of pottery - I can hear myself telling a student- if you can't get it up in 3 pulls then time to wedge more clay. I find that to be the same with how I see watercolor, get in and get out-let the light shine through the pigment.


• Third- Yes, there is a blush that was executed in the front of the piece but look closely and see how many times it was scrubbed clean in hopes of mastering "the blush."


• Fourth-Shall we discuss the shadows or just say better luck next time. The perspective from which the box was shot made for a strange shadow, but once again the way to solve this problem was to be in better control of my washes. There were 3 values in the shadow and there is much room for improvement there.


• Fifth- By the time, I was getting to the lettering and finishing this piece (this is the second trial that was to be placed in the trash, but I used the back to sample colors -number 3 never made it past the back washes when I decided to rescue this piece and just finish it) I was so tired of it that I completed those tasks to complete the piece. I kind of like the Quaker oats man looking like he just jumped out of a South Park show. Perhaps that is the only plus to the piece.

So, here is a watercolor that I am not proud of, but learned much. The push to complete the piece was part of that exercise and learning what not to do is moving me to find the place where my brush, my hand and heart can join to paint.

Here is the photo from which I was to paint.
See you next time.