Preparing for the start of a new session of watercolour classes, at the midnight hour I was cleaning up palettes to load with fresh clean colours. It turned out I was using the new brand of coughdrop-impregnated tissues, which made the palettes cherry-menthol-fresh.
The tools of this watercolour trade are simple enough:
a few good brushes (silky-soft, but with a strong snap-back to position when flexed)
a palette and some artist-grade colours,
a block of 140 lb watercolour paper,
plus an HB pencil, my wonderful mystery-putty eraser, a box of tissues, and (though in practice I rarely use it, opting for brush control instead) a bottle of liquid latex removable masking fluid.
Simplicity is often the key to good painting, and to quote from Louisa May Alcott's
An Old Fashioned Girl, "taste
is economy sometimes". At the drawing stage I put everything in, then with the eraser I pare it down to the essential lines before starting to paint.
It wasn't until I started working for the greeting card industry that I was introduced to the liquid satiny qualities of artist-grade t
ube colours. For years I worked with a selection of fine brushes (my only extravagance) and a box of student-grade watercolour cakes, a boxed set. Despite their limitations, and perhaps because I didn't know any better, it was possible to produce clean bright colours that have lasted over the years.
One such early painting was
"Daffy-Down-Dilly
has come up to town
In a yellow petticoat
and a green gown."
And so she has.
"....Thus spake the seraph and forthwith
Some years ago it was my pleasure to illustrate Kate's Castle, written by children's book author Julie Lawson. Like many beautiful books it is now out of print, even though the author and I still get requests from parents and teachers who would like to have a copy.
and builds from there with,
"This is the pool of anenomes,
and creatures from the deep, including the mermaid above, swim by for a look.
Cold and wintry as it has been outside, in the art classes we are already talking about bulbs and seed packages and plans for the coming garden year. Rows of potted daffodils, tulips and hyacinths greet us at the supermarket entrances and I cannot resist them. Snow is falling tonight, it will be weeks and weeks before even the first snowdrops bloom, but indoors the magic begins.
Preparing for the start of a new session of watercolour classes, at the midnight hour I was cleaning up palettes to load with fresh clean colours. It turned out I was using the new brand of coughdrop-impregnated tissues, which made the palettes cherry-menthol-fresh.
ube colours. For years I worked with a selection of fine brushes (my only extravagance) and a box of student-grade watercolour cakes, a boxed set. Despite their limitations, and perhaps because I didn't know any better, it was possible to produce clean bright colours that have lasted over the years.
The "Fair Maids of February" are cautious here. After a brief appearance near Valentine's Day they tucked their fair heads under their green cloaks and waited for less bitter winds. Now they are at full height, pretty clusters of white petal-bonnets pushing aside the matted leaf roof. I dug up a cold moist handful, settled them in a pot and brought them inside to paint their portrait. They fell about unsteadily at first, then straightened up and opened a little in the warm room.
There is never enough time in a two-hour art class to get to this final polished state, except in a very small painting. And art teachers never tell their students to paint small!
