We Must Dance, You and I

I drew the girl on the left in July of last year. After that, I went every so often (over a matter of months) to the same Quiznos restaurant where the drawing was done. When I could, I would sit at the very same table, and paint on location. [The manager now greets me as a co-conspirator. He smiles and asks, "So who are you going to draw today?"]

In those days, I painted using a Koi watercolor brush set with nine colors. I never finished though. I'd painted all but the girl. So this weekend I painted the girl with my Winsor & Newton paints and a traditional brush.

More recently, I drew and painted the picture below, with a similar color scheme.






We take steps forward, and we take steps back. Learning to paint is nothing, if it is not a dance.

In this instance, while I appreciate some aspects of these sketches, there is so much I would like to do better. That's the way it should be, I guess.

This weekend I attempted to paint wildflowers for Valentine's Day. This, as you probably know, is not my usual thing. Suffice it to say that the weeds took over the field. Then they reached out from the paper, as weeds will do, and finished me off.

The weeds strangled me.

My final thoughts were these: It's happened again! I've forgotten how to paint! I never knew how to paint! I only know how to color! I should use crayons!!

I have since recovered with, by the way, a newfound respect for those who do that sort of thing. And I will try again.

In any event, my computer has H1N1 or some other virus, and I am sending it away for repairs. So I missed Shadow Shot Sunday, and Valentine's Day too. Today I am posting with another computer.

So belatedly I offer one rustic rose for the occasion.

Take it.

Place it between your teeth, and dance. Take one step forward and one step back, as all artists do.

And when you do, although math would seem to contradict, you will not be in the same place as before.

I was at an art show today. One artist offered this advice: "Stick with it."

And I will.