A glimpse into the life and thoughts of an artist

 Learning
to See  

Here is a painting begun at the Hide-N-Seek Watercolor Workshop  at the Waioli Tea Room (our next workshop there is on June 24 & 25).  

Looks like fun, doesn't it? That's only because it is!

I didn't finish this painting at the workshop. It was more important for the students to finish their paintings.  

As soon as I began to work on this after the workshop, ideas began to flow through me. This painting became the vehicle for showing you what I mean when I tell students to "paint what you know". 

"Paint what you know" means that if you don't know what to paint, you don't paint! You stop! You wait until you DO know what to paint before picking up your brush.

When facing a new painting or starting a  new project, we often know one thing we can do to get started. Sometimes we know two things. Often we have more questions than answers.

In the beginning, this painting is made up of mostly midtones with the two "white" flowers.  

I know I need to make the hibiscus more visible.  

All my colors are juxtaposed next to one another; no one color stands alone. They are all influenced by adjacent colors. If I want to make one color stand out, I have two options: A) paint on the color itself, known as positive painting; or B) paint the area surrounding the color, known as negative painting.

Negative painting is painting where the object or color is not ... essentially painting around the it.   

Sometimes we do both. Here I painted between the petals of the hibiscus to separate them from one another and define the flowers.  

Then I painted around the flowers by adding darker colors to the surrounding areas (negative painting).  

Each darker color wash gave more definition to the white hibiscus and more focus to the painting.

The dark colors make the lights appear lighter and brighter.

I did not paint all of the darks at one time, or all in one place. I moved the brush from one side of the painting to the other, hop-scotching across the surface of the painting.  

I stepped back every five to ten minutes and looked to see what the painting needed.  

I didn't automatically know what needed to be done next.

My goal was to make the light areas, the hibiscus, the area of interest, the focal points. The steps to get there took time because I allowed them to unfold slowly.  

I worked on this painting, off and on, for a week.  

Painting teaches me to be patient.   

Some of my friends are really glad to hear this!!!!! 

I am learning to watch things unfold; to coax, rather than rush, them along.  

Hopefully I am learning to be patient in other areas of my life too.  

My point is that I don't often know ... actually I RARELY know ...
okay, NO, I NEVER KNOW all the steps to a painting when I begin.
If I did, why would I paint it? Where would the fun be?

You might know one, two, maybe three steps to take when you start a painting or a project. Start there with that knowledge. Then stop. Step back. Look. Ponder. Wonder. Think. Ask what comes next. Then listen. Wait until a thought or idea comes to you.  

Then, and only then, do you paint, or work on your project, again.  

Then stop and repeat the process.

If nothing comes to you, stop painting! Put the painting aside. Put it on an easel or on a wall. Turn it upside down or look at it in a mirror. Change your perspective! Look at it later. Eventually an idea or thought will come to you and you will know your next step.

Respond accordingly.  

Do NOT paint when you don't "know" what to paint!

It is okay to not know what comes next - both in life and in paintings.

Mystery and magic reside in the unknown. Look to the unknown with the excitement and enthusiasm you once felt as a young child anticipating the fireworks on the Fourth of July.

Make friends with the unknown and you will be paving your path, and painting, with enchantment.

We can learn a lot from our paintings and from our process. Awareness is the key.  

Learning to paint is learning to see.  

When painting anything we have to really look at it in order to render it recognizable.  

We ask questions: What does it look like? What kind of shadow is being cast? What does the shadow tell us about the surroundings?  

Everything in life is relational. Nothing stands alone, solitary unto itself.

Where do we fit into this world? How does what we do fit into the puzzle of life?  

Big questions for a small painting of two white hibiscus?  

Maybe, maybe not. Think about it.

Purchase Celebration (the hibiscus painting shown in this eZine):  

11"x14" print for $35, includes shipping  

16"x20" print for $60, includes shipping