Flame Azalea - 11

Today I am thinking about creativity.  The act of creating.  From this:





To this:

 

I go along day by day describing to you the technical details of how I paint a picture, inching along step by slow step.  First this, then that.  But also realize what is happening at the tip of my paintbrush.  Blobs of paint are doused with water, swished around and mixed with other colors, and put to use on a piece of paper.  A formless puddle of paint becomes the petal of a blossom, the nub of a new leaf shoot.  Telling the story of the life of this little shrub in my front yard.  Not to overdramatize things, but I like to pause every now and then, and think about the 'what' instead of the  'how'.  Touch base with my right brain.  Remind myself of the wonder of it all.  There is a color palette for every living thing, really.  What are you painting today with the palette that is you?

Flame Azalea - 10

Welcoming some green to the palette:

Flame Azalea - 9

Today I got my color palette organized.  Chiefly I'm using Cadmium Yellow, Cadmium Scarlet, and Ultramarine Blue. I started to work on the blossoms to the right.  I chose this spot to begin because I am left-handed, and tend to be on the messy side.  Working right to left often minimizes the chance for my left hand to cause any disasters smudging newly applied paint.   So far so good, though I am uncovering several challenges I hadn't anticipated.  For starters, flower petals are nearly transparent.  And these petals are a pale yellow-orange.  Yellow can get too heavy really fast if you don't watch it.  So I run the risk that the transparency will be lost unless I use very very thin washes of paint. Also, yellow (and therefore yellow-orange) is really difficult to shade without turning the thing icky green. The blossoms on the right side of this particular bunch are fully in shadow, and so I am working out how to get them to look darker and yet still orange and transparent.  Hmmmm... What do you think?  I'm going to keep working around the composition to build everything up evenly and will come back to this area later. 

Here's a close up of work thus far:

And here's what the whole piece looks like today:

I know, that far right petal is too blue.  Sticks out like a sore thumb.  Not to worry; I can fix that (she says confidently!)  Stay tuned!

 

 

Flame Azalea - 8

The "tea wash" stage . . .  I've laid down a very pale cadmium yellow wash over the blossom and leaf areas, and a pale cadmium scarlet wash over the stem area of the painting.  This helps so much to finally see the image sit on top of the paper.  Unfortunately, because it is so pale you won't be able to really see what I've done.  But stay with me . . . before you know it a graceful azalea branch will start to 'grow' out of the paper!  I am realizing what a complicated painting this is, with translucent yellow-orange petals laying on top of one another.  What was I thinking?!

Flame Azalea - 7

Well, I've changed my mind.  Remember the issue I mentioned last post about painting the pale stamen on top of the darker petals?  I was marching assuredly along with my Stamen Solution and suddenly realized I was headed for Trouble.  Even though I tried to draw thin, fine lines with the liquid mask pen, what I ended up with was not that.  I ended up with sketchy lines that ended in blobs of goo.  I thought I could eventually paint around (and thereby shrink) the larger than necessary white lines.  In the end I realized that this would make the stamen look outlined.  I don't know whether you can follow this, but at any rate, I realized there is a better way.  I will use white gouache paint to add the stamen on top of the petals.  Gouache is opaque; and though water-based, isn't normally considered a true watercolor paint.  But watercolor artists use white gouache in just such circumstances, when there really isn't any other way to get the job done.  So after I complete the petals, I'll go back in with white to paint the stamen.  Then when that dries, I can add a transparent layer of just the right shade of pale yellow/green.  Sound like a plan?  (I don't have an image to share with this post, since the Plan is in my head and what is now on paper is an absence of liquid mask goo.)

Onward!

Flame Azalea - 6

OK.  Today really is the first day of the rest of my life.  I begin a new schedule, which includes time every day to be creative!  Happy me.  I begin where I left off with my neglected azalea sketch.  The first thing to accomplish is to get it transfered to watercolor paper.  Since it is a complex drawing, this takes a little doing.

The first thing to notice about the flower clusters  - from a technical standpoint -is that the stamen, (which are very very pale yellow, practically white) pop out in front of the flower petals, which are orange.  Since you can't paint white on top of another color in watercolors, the only way to do this is by using masking fluid.  Masking fluid is sort of like rubber cement.  I paint it on wherever I want the paper to stay white.  It dries and creates a safe barrier.  Then I will carry on with the painting, and when the underlying areas are done and dry, I will remove the mask and like magic, the little white stamen will pop out.  That's the theory anyway! 

Here is a photo showing my original pencil sketch (above), a pen tracing of the main outlines (on the right) which I used to transfer the design, and the watercolor paper (below) with the faintly drawn image and the masking fluid already applied.  Can you see the blue lines?  That is the mask.  I found a product that has a pen nib at the top of the bottle, so that I could draw fairly thin lines.  It was much easier than trying to paint it.  Imagine painting with rubber cement.  It is a nightmare and I was glad I could avoid it!

Because of the mask, I will have to paint this piece a little differently.  Normally I like to build up all parts of the composition at the same time.  However the mask cannot ramain on the paper long, and I need to try to hurry to completely finish the areas behind the mask first.  If I wait too long, the mask material will start to fuse permanently with my paper and the painting will be ruined.  How long is "too long"?  According to the manufacturer, that is 24-48 hours!  Yikes!  I guess you know where you can find me tomorrow!!

And so it goes . . .

I am embarassed to notice that an entire month has elapsed since my last post.  Ah well, I do have a few good excuses.  In the last month we've hosted a family reunion, attended another one, endured a car accident (totaled the car, but no injuries thankfully!), nursed our old dog through another down spell, and sent Henry, our youngest, off to college.  I am just now recovering.

At least Andrew, our oldest, is back home.  Politicians eager for my vote are decrying the statistic that more than 50% of recent college graduates are unemployed or underemployed and have moved back in with their parents.  This is shocking for sure, but I am here to tell you we view Andrew's temporary residence in our basement as a great blessing.  He is writing and recording his music, underemployed as a bartender and SAT tutor, saving his money and industriously preparing for a move to New York.  He is also saving me from flat-out depression.  I mean it.  If it weren't for his cheerful presence in our home, I know I'd wander aimlessly from room to empty room, wondering what will become of me now that my Stay-At-Home-Mom gig has ended.  His daily singing and practicing is a balm that soothes more than he can know. And his dedication to his passion is inspiring.

And so I gingerly pick up where I left off.  I find my drawing pen and remind myself what I can do with it.  I doodle and dream.  And somewhere along in there I head up to Henry's room, pen and paper in hand, and visit his turtle, Franklin.  Poor old Franklin, abandoned in this room that looks like the Grinch has just departed.  Dresser drawers are empty and a bit askew, forgotten clothes hangers litter the floor, stray bits of tape mark the spots on the walls where favorite posters used to hang.  There are no more piles of dirty athletic clothes and school books and golf balls and candy wrappes and a backpack spilling its contents on the floor. Uncharacteristically, the bed is made and the desk is tidy.  The emptiness haunts me. 

Yet in the act of drawing, I am refreshed.  Most times I draw because I have something joyful to give, some beautiful thing inside that wants to be expressed.  But sometimes I draw to heal.  I am looking for that quiet place where bliss abides .  What a gift it is to find peace.  Another reason to be grateful for this journey!  A wonderful adventure awaits if I keep pencil or paintbrush in hand and persevere.   And so it goes . . .