This morning I awoke to snow falling. I knew straight off after looking out the window most of the day would be spent inside, so I asked the girls if they would like to paint. I decided to set up a small still life near their easel with some fruit, a few vegetables, and a tea pot. The still life was an attempt to help focus them when they painted. Sometimes painting becomes more of an exercise of how messy can I get or how brown can I turn all the paint. I am hoping to evolve their exploration into something a bit more refined now that they are getting older.
Right as I placed the tea pot down, a simple thought popped into my head. I should join them painting.
I sat on the floor, the still life off in the distance for my inspiration. I wanted to paint in watercolor, but I couldn't find any watercolor paper. I was able to easily get my hands on a blank canvas, so I just went for it, watercolor on canvas. I bit nontraditional and even temperamental, but this wasn't a commissioned piece, it was simply for me. There was no pressure, dipping my toes back in the painter's water. Curiosity got the best of me, contemplating how the paintbrush would feel again in my hand or if my eye could still capture the light, the shadows, the inspiration on canvas.
After I passed the point of hesitation and allowed the paint to flow onto the canvas, I felt at home. The painter in me was touched. My first painting (it's a work in progress, the background needs to be completed) is almost done. To think it was a post in October of 2009 that I shared an old piece and I mentioned I wanted to start painting again.
Feels good to be back. 2011 you are just full of surprises.