Art is fun. It is not hard. Sometimes I think it is. Then I remember why I do it. Because it makes me happy. It gives me space to breathe. It doesn’t hurt my eyes. I listen to cool music. I sip tea. Time drifts by. I am relaxed. I experiment. I allow myself to wreck a canvas. It is personal. It is safe.
A blank canvas. It’s empty. It’s not alive. It just sits there. It won’t give me any hints. It waits for my first mark.
What’s next hardest?
Choosing when to stop. I get excited and overwork pieces. I’ve created many watercolor mud pies and overly-layered oil pastel soups. And if I spend too much time on a piece I get sick of it.
Choosing a subject. Something grabs me or it doesn’t. And sharing my art with friends and family.
After the first strokes are down, a canvas communicates. I watch and listen very carefully. Where to add pigment. Where to leave negative space. The piece begins to dance with me and nearly creates itself. There is no stress. I don’t over think. I just play.
Still figuring that one out. I use watercolor a lot because it has a life of its own. Tough to control. It’s challenging.
Dry pastel is freeing because you can smear it all around easily. I like to use my hands and get messy with those. They work up fastest.
Oil pastel is fussier but there is a richness to the color that I adore.
Venturing into acrylics. Versatile and complex. So many grounds and mediums that can be added to adjust their behavior. So many techniques to try. Vibrant and quick-drying—great for experimentation.
I stay away from oils because of skin sensitivities. They take forever to dry and I’m impatient.
Play even more. Explore media. Work different sizes.
You are why this blog exists. I’m tickled that you’re here.