Paint What You Love

Day 261: After two pitiful attempts at painting a scientifically-accurate Delphinium, I was beginning to feel rather frustrated and was questioning whether or not watercolours were a medium I could work in. I went a couple of days without drawing anything before saying as much to an artistic friend, but when I confided in her that I was feeling "rather deflated," she said I needed to shut off the strongly dominant analytical portion of my brain. I wasn't quite sure how to do that, but the following afternoon as I sat at the window with a Delphinium spike immediately outside, I thought, "Okay, I will try to paint what a Delphinium feels like." Using the actual plant only as a general reference, I did a quick pencil sketch and then moved into the kitchen to paint it, the model out of sight. When I was done, there was no question as to what flower I had portrayed: unmistakably a Delphinium, and decidedly a better representation than my first two attempts. The next day, I ventured out into the Barren Wasteland in early morning light, captured the basic shapes of California Poppies, Rose Campion and peppermint, applying watercolours indoors in a location where I could not see the plants. Again, the painting is not scientifically accurate, but the plants are readily recognizable. Yesterday's subject was a fidgety Goldfinch who perched in the raspberries, and although I took quite liberal artistic license with the composition, both bird and plant are identifiable. Maybe there's hope yet that my clinical mind can give way to its poorly developed creative counterpart to allow me to express my love of nature in watercolours. All three paintings were done on 5.5" x 8.5" mixed-media paper.

"Measure Twice, Cut Once"

Day 189: Inspired by a friend's artistic endeavours, I decided to give sketching another go. As I may have mentioned, the House of Chirp has new tenants. They've been moving furniture in for the last week or so, and as all of us who have moved around a lot know, sometimes the couch won't fit through the door without some serious finagling. We don't take the couch back to the store; that would be silly. We fiddle with standing it on end, turning it around the other way, maybe even taking the legs off until we can maneuver it into the house. Nor are Tree Swallows likely to discard their selection, and if a twig or feather won't fit through the hole, they try this angle and that until it goes in. Now it must be said that I had intended to make this drawing more cartoonish to suit the caption, "Measure twice, cut once...right," but as I was standing at the kitchen window with the sketchbook held up in one hand and my pencil in the other, watching the antics of the new renters, the drawing took on a style independent of what I had in mind. Once the details had resolved themselves, I sat at the kitchen table to ink and colour it. A second effort made later in the day, drawn entirely from my imagination, did not work out as well. I will not make any claims of artistic talent, but at least my ability to draw a recognizable object is improving.

Proper Perspective

Day 172: I have often remarked to friends that I have no artistic talent whatsoever, at least as far as putting a medium on paper or canvas is concerned. My "art" is fiber art. I create with threads and yarns (and sometimes create those very yarns and threads in the first place). That said, when I was actively hiking several hundred miles each month, I kept a journal to document the events of the day, illustrated with a Sharpie since it was the only pen available which didn't bleed through the paper of the book. I developed a scribbling style which was quite effective for rocks and trees and mountainous horizons, but when it came to drawing a coffee mug or a sign on the trail, I could never get the perspective right. Since the journal was for my own enjoyment, it didn't really matter that you couldn't tell my tent wasn't an elephant in repose, but I was dismayed by my inability to translate what I was seeing to a flat surface.

One of my sisters-of-the-heart is a talented artist. As I have monitored her activities in classes and on line, I was taken with one of her instructors whose style seemed to be along the lines of my own scribbles. I began following him on Facebook just in time to tune in for a two-hour lesson in perspective. His simple "one-point" method inspired me to make this sketch today in Sharpie and watercolour, drawn entirely from my imagination. While still not exactly what I'd call "artistic" when stood side-by-side with Patty's paintings, the technique helped resolve my issues with perspective. Our other sister dubbed my picture "Tippy Under the Tree." Hey, if they both recognized him as a cat, I must be doing better.

More Botanical Art

Day 14: The vining hydrangea (Japanese climbing hydrangea, Hydrangea anomala) doesn't provide much visual interest during spring and summer, but its few white flowers and lush green foliage fill the gap between the House of Chirp and Pussywillow Cottage nicely and give me something to look at through the kitchen window while I'm washing dishes. That said, when autumn delivers its Midas touch and the foliage turns to gold, it is utterly spectacular. For the better part of two weeks, it's been asking to sit for a portrait, so with a cold snap threatening to shatter the leaves' tenuous hold on their stems, I snipped a small spray, flattened it against the paper and traced around the edge. I have a very limited palette of watercolours and an even more limited stock of artistic talent, and was not quite sure I wasn't biting off more than I could chew with four (count them!) leaves instead of one, but here you see the result.

Stick with me, people. It's hard to find blog material in the winter months even without a pandemic and political turmoil. Hopefully, I'll be able to return to informative natural history posts at some future date.

Botanical Art

Day 10: I'm not kidding myself. I know that I don't have an artistic bone in my body. I couldn't draw a square square if you paid me, and to try to get the proportions and perspective right on something as simple as an egg is as far beyond my skill as trying to recreate the work of one of the Old Masters. However, I do think I have a good eye for colour, which is probably the product of years of doing needlework. I never need to carry a fabric sample to the store to match thread. I simply commit it to memory before I go shopping. Lack of artistic talent aside, I have long desired to be able to do botanical illustrations in some medium or another, so when a friend began taking watercolour classes, I thought I'd give it a try. I bought a cheapo kit: several brushes, some paints in tubes and some in "tablet" form. The tubes struck me as likely to waste a lot of paint, so I haven't cracked them yet, but I seem to be doing okay with the hard sort. After my first few attempts turned out rather too light (the vine maple, for example), Patty advised me to allow the paint to dry and then add a second layer to make the colour stronger. While I don't think I'm there yet, I'm not unhappy with the results either. That said, I have to admit to a certain cheat: I know I can't draw, so I traced around real leaves and then laid in the colour. Hey, at least I stay within the lines.