Thursday, August 26, 2010
One Hundred Markers
Honey hadn't noticed the package sitting on the porch, but I saw it immediately.
"My markers are here!" I shouted. "Pale blues! Five shades of gray! And Umbra!" Umbra, as great a color as gray for making an initial sketch. So much promise in a box. And all the way from Italy for only twenty bucks. I couldn't wait to get it open. When I did, I stopped. There was a gorgeous rainbow of colors in a shiny plastic case, they were too magnificent. I just wanted to look at them.
In a stand--not as sturdy as the more costly graphic markers--they are water soluble. They have greater potential. But the same sophisticate array of hues--much more sophisticated than the markers I'd been buying at the grocery store. They are beautiful. I just couldn't open them to check out the nibs and the stroke. All I could think to do was draw the exciting still life in front of me. No perspective, no gimmicks, just free hand fun. Celebrating one of the greatest joys of artists: new supplies. New opportunities.
IN THE STUDIO
I studied yesterday's destruction. There was something about it I liked. It's honesty.
I really was just going to paint in a small flower on the rock (no longer there) in the lower right corner. Sign it, (one must own one's work, no matter how shocking; it could be a lead), and store it. Instead I went back in with the brown black expanding on the trees. I didn't do much. I was getting acquainted with this new world.
This morning, yellow came to mind as I flipped on the lights, but first, I had to whiten out some of the grays so the yellows wouldn't be tainted. So many trees and limbs, a barrier between me and the brightness is what irritated me the day I took the picture; play them up.
I have a philosophy: broken is broken. So before calling repair men, I try to repair things myself. I figure I could fix it or just break it more and still have to call the guy and wait for him to show up anywhere between eight and five. Might as well try. This is a good philosophy for this painting, which now intrigues me.