Transparency

I want to say a little more about transparency.  Transparency versus Mud.  When you mix too many colors together, or when you mix colors that are not of the same 'temperature' (cool or warm), you get Mud.  It isn't a particular color and it isn't a particular thickness of paint.  But you know it when you see it.  The pigment just sits there dead as can be in a blob on your paper.  No depth, no brilliance, no light, no life.  If you are painting an object that isn't living, you may not mind this effect.  But to a botanical artist, this is a Bad Situation. 

What you want is Transparency.  A few thin washes of compatible colors, and voila!  It is like spontaneous generation right there on your paper.  The thing you are painting comes to life before your very eyes.  What happens is those thin transparent layers just lay on top of the paper, and mingle a little with the paper's 'tooth' (surface texture).  Light can still pass through the pigment.  To me it looks like the subtle texture of the paper actually becomes part of the painting, like the surface of a leaf.  It is almost creepy to see a lifelike leaf start to emerge from the paper.  I think of Michelangelo, who said his role as a sculptor is to release the sculpture from the block of stone it's trapped in.  So I'm uncovering a beautiful oak branch, trapped inside the white paper!  This is what happens to my mind as I sit for hours staring at my painting....

Green

I really do love the color green.  Depending on the shade, it can be refreshing, calming, healing, expansive . . .alive! In watercolor painting, the trick of mixing a good green is to use colors with the same 'temperature', meaning you use either all cool colors or all warm colors, not some of both.  If you mix a warm yellow with a cool blue, the outcome will be muddy.  And muddy color can be a disaster, because part of the magic of watercolor is the transparency, allowing the white of the paper to shine through.

These oak leaves are a very cool, bluish green.  So my leaf formula is veridian green (a dark, cool green) mixed with a tiny bit of indian red (which is more brown than red), and to add brightness, a bit of cool lemon yellow.  Later I'll paint shaddows and dark areas with a wash of permanent rose mixed with ultramarine blue.  Another cardinal rule of color mixing is not to use too many different colors.  You keep it as simple as you can to avoid the dreaded Mud Situation.  So I have to watch it . . . sometimes I get carried away!

Some artists get their desired colors by applying very thin washes of color straight from the tubes.  A blue wash over a yellow wash will look green, for example.  You have to be really patient and meticulous, keeping your brush clean and waiting until each layer dries before applying the next layer.  You also have to have an exceptional knowledge of color theory because you are mixing your colors essentially right on your painting -- risky business if you ask me!  As you can see from my palette, I mix my colors first on the paint tray, often testing them on spare strips of paper before I apply paint to the painting.  It gives me more of a sense that I'm in control of the situation.

I'm still working on the form of the leaves.  They don't yet look alive, but they do look like leaves!  so far I am pleased with how it is coming along...

Form

And now we arrive at the second stage: Form.  It is the easiest to describe but it takes the longest to do.  Basically, I paint the form of each leaf (and acorn) showing the the lights and darks, giving the subject three dimensions.  In botanical work, the light source is always from the upper left, as if the sun is shining on the subject over the artist's left shoulder.   To me, this stage is nerve-wracking.  I am constantly nervous that I'll mess up.  It isn't until I get the form right for every element of the painting that I will relax and enjoy the remaining three stages of work. 

You may think this leaf doesn't look very natural, and you are right.  The veins are too pronounced and the color is too monotone.  It looks like a plastic leaf, in my opinion.  But just you wait!  Once we work on the veins and the subtleties of shading, it will look like a real live oak leaf.  This is all I'm going to do on this leaf for now.  Time to bring the other leaves up to this stage...

My favorite oak tree quote

There are two ways of getting to the top of an oak tree . . .
one is to climb,
the other is to sit on an acorn
and wait.

Haycorns

My kids, when they were small, called acorns 'haycorns' thanks to Winnie the Pooh, which I thought was delightful.  I keep this in mind as I begin to paint them.  When looking at the Whole Painting, and wondering where to start, I find the best approach is to begin painting the thing that is the most difficult or important.  Just get it done so it isn't hanging over me in a worrying sort of way.  Since the acorns in this painting are really the focal point, and also quite tricky, I'll begin here.  I won't paint them completely, just the basic form and shape and the first few layers of color.  Just enough to squelch the fear that I can't do it, but not too much to affect the balance of the painting.  It is important to try to build the whole painting in stages, rather than finish every little square inch as you go along.  I'll talk more about this later.  For now, enjoy the haycorns, as they take shape on the paper!

Moving right along . . .

I just finished the tea wash stage and thought you'd like to take a peek.  Tough to make out everything, but that is the point.  It is just enough pigment so I can tell what is 'leaf' and what is 'not leaf' as I go back in to paint the form of my subject. 

Happy Father's Day!!

This one's for my dad, who loves his trees.  There's an enormous Magnolia Grandifolia just next to their house which is now flowering.  Big, soft, creamy white blossoms against that sharp, shiny dark green.  The flower blooms so fleetingly - just for a day - and gives off such a heady perfume.  I wanted to capture the moment before it had passed.   Take notice before it is gone.  Enjoy!

The Tea Wash

The first year I studied botanical art I took a class from Anne Marie Evans, a famous Brittish artist and pioneer in the field of botanical art education.  She developed a 5-step method for botanical watercolor painting,  which I still follow, more or less.  The first stage is called the Tea Stage.  You carefully eliminate your guidelines and lay down a very faint wash of color blocking out the entire composition.  The color you choose is taken from the lightest hue in the object you are painting.  But you dilute the paint in so much water that the result looks as if you were painting with tea.  This is fun and fast and satisfying, a nice way to begin.  I'm using a lemon yellow wash on everything but the stem.  When I get there, I think I'll use Indian red.  So sorry you can't really make out much with this scan.  In real life it isn't this invisible, thankfully.  Stay tuned!  Very visible green is just around the corner!

Ready to paint

Although you can't see it, I now have a fully detailed sketch on my watercolor paper, and I am ready for the first layer of paint.  The pencil lines are so faint even I can hardly see them, but this is intentional.  They only serve as guides for the first wash of color.  And when I lay down that wash, I will first erase the lines completely, one teeny section at a time.  This is so that in the end, there will be no traces of the graphite, which is such an essential tool in getting it 'right' but would be a distraction in the finished painting. 

Onward!

Studio Tricks

When you looked at my finished drawing of the oak branch, done on tracing paper, did you wonder how I was going to reproduce that image with paint on watercolor paper?  Some artists can sit down with paintbrush in hand and set paint to paper without any guidelines.  I'm not that talented . . . I need all the references and clues and guidelines I can get!  I will now reveal to you my first nifty piece of Studio equipment . . . the light box.  What a great invention!!  I used to have to take my rough drawing, place it on a piece of carbon paper on top of the watercolor paper and 'draw' with a stylus to get a carbon image traced onto the good paper.  Aside from the mess factor, it was really difficult to see and keep track of what I had or had not drawn.  The light box changed everything.  First you tape down the drawing on the light box.  The good paper is placed over the rough drawing, and because it is backlit, the image shows through the paper.  I can easily and quickly and accurately draw the image very lightly on the good paper.  I use a very hard pencil to make a very faint line.  It is only a guide and will ultimately be erased.  But the guidelines are crucial for accuracy.  And accuracy is everything in botanical art!

The Blank Paper

I want you all to consider where I am starting . . . with a blank piece of paper.  Anyone undertaking a creative endeavor begins here, with the slate wiped clean.  A song, a painting, a lecture, a story . . . whatever it is, if it is a creative thing, it starts from nothing on the page.  Well, not nothing, exactly.  For me, it is a whisper of an idea in my imagination.  Usually I can visualize a part of it but it takes a while for the whole thing to take shape.  I sketch and play around with the composition until I get it just the way I want it, and then I am ready to begin the painting.  By this time the idea is fully formed.  Some folks are terrified of the empty whiteness of a blank page.  But for me, I get excited taking out a fresh, new stiff piece of watercolor paper, knowing how much time I'm going to spend hunched over it, transforming it.  I wonder what serendipity will happen.  What will it look like when I'm done?

Sometimes when we look at a finished painting or hear beautiful music or taste an amazing meal or read something profound, we forget that it began as nothing more than a glimmer of an idea.  Somehow the creative mind took that idea and played with it, tested it, tried it this way and that.  Perhaps many previous bad ideas were discarded along the way before this inspiration took hold. And then, by slow degrees, the creative soul executes the idea, word by word, brush stroke by brush stroke, note by note, putting one foot in front of the other, aiming for the far distant finish line.  I think it was Thomas Edison who said genius is one part inspiration and 99 parts perspiration.  He was right.  Sometimes beautiful things seem so perfect, as if they were always here, always just so, and we forget about the creative process that lovingly and patiently coaxed it into its fully formed, complete being. 

For my paintings, I use Arches 300# lb. hot press watercolor paper.   You can't tell anything from this scan, but it is stiff, with a slight 'tooth' and a beautiful feathery deckled edge.  It is a work of art just as it is!  And so with my first pencil mark, this empty paper with endless possibilities will be limited to just one, and a journey begins. 

Introducing Quercus alba

For those of you who are getting slightly annoyed that hollysdailydraw isn't exactly every day, but you keep checking up on me anyway, today you will be rewarded.  Allow me to introduce you to one of my favorite trees, Quercus alba, the mighty White oak.  I love this tree because it grows to such magnificence -- tall, sturdy, and elegant.  The pale gray bark is fissured but not too deeply.  Its large, lobed leaves wear a changing rainbow of colors through spring, summer and fall, and don't drop to the ground until the very end of winter.  And who doesn't love acorns?  Traditional uses of White oak wood include hardwood flooring, whiskey barrels and boat building.  The famouse Revolutionary War frigate, USS Constitution, "Old Ironsides", was made of White oak.  Who knew?

On our property, we have a number of White oaks, but one in particular, which is just outside my studio, is our favorite.  It is the oldest and has the most beautiful spread of branches.  Several years ago now, I promised Peter I'd paint him a series of paintings of White oak, through the seasons.  So in 2008, I successfully completed two of them (autumn and winter).  And then Life took over and I haven't returned to the project in three years.  Now is the time!  I did a completed pencil drawing back in 2008, which I'll post here.  This took hours and hours, working out the composition, studying the leaf structure and actually doing the drawing.  Now I will take you through the process of making a painting!  Don't hold your breath; it takes rediculously long!  And don't worry, I won't only post Quercus alba updates for the next two months.  I'll keep going with quick daily drawings, too.  Enjoy!

for Alice

I am creating another card for Alice the music teacher, who is also retiring at the end of this school year.  Alice not only has directed the lower school music program at our school for many many years, she has also played the piano at every school musical, every school ceremony, and every holiday program.  Can't imagine how we'll get along without her!  One thing that will always remind me of Alice is handbells.  She teaches a select group of third and fourth graders to play handbells every year, and they play with such pride and sense of accomplishment!  Not only do they learn about reading the music and the technique of ringing, they learn to care for the precious instruments.  Nobody messes with Alice's bell tables!  I love the sight of the little people, in their school vests and white gloves, standing at full attention behind the tables.  And those shiny bells do make a beautiful sound!

for Bonnie

I am creating a card for Bonnie the art teacher, who is retiring at the end of this school year.  Since she is a painter, I thought I'd draw an image of an old tube of paint.  Oh dear!  It looks like a tube of toothpaste!  I think I need to add just a dribble of paint spilling on to the table.  What do you think?