So, I started thinking about how I like to paint on small pieces of paper, and I wondered why that is. I decided I am afraid to work larger because a bigger piece of paper means a bigger commitment, and in a pessimistic sense, more paper to throw away when disaster strikes. But that's ridiculous, right? How do you learn if you don't take chances, even big ones? Or especially big ones.
I pushed my 5x7 watercolor paper aside and sat myself down in front of an 11x15 sheet. I chose four color tubes from the stash and dove in head first—a brave concept for me because I'm afraid of water deep enough to dive into and rarely venture into the deep end of my own pool. With a large brush, I painted wide strokes of water on the sheet but not edge to edge. I wanted wet edges to stop the colors from bleeding corner to corner.
This is the first scene I came up with. I love the sunsettishness of the sky, but I'm not sure I like the blowing-through-a-straw effect on the tree tops. Maybe.
This one is a little wilder, like a tree stand in the peak of autumn, blazing colors reflected in the water. I think this one lends itself to a photo-blending, so I'll keep it around for when I find just the right images.
And this one turned out to be my favorite, birch trees with fall foliage. Honestly, it's difficult for me to say I really like anything I paint—it's like saying I like a photograph of myself (those usually give me hives), but I would frame this one. Would you?
And finally, not to waste the trusty 5x7s, this is the road to the great unknown. It's apparently up hill.
I couldn't wait until next week to fiddle with the middle image and some photos, so here you go:
Here is the flat image untouched:
And here it is again blended with images of sky, trees, foliage, and water. Water from a local lake, sky from the Mediterranean, trees from a forest belonging to some friends, and foliage from the canal trail near Small Town. Kind of like this. How about you?