More Ordinary Things

Okay, it was childish of me, ten years ago, to buy the Spotted Dick pudding just because of the name. And probably even more childish to have saved the tin.  And now, to memorialize said childishness . . . 

But I'm really enjoying drawing (though not very well) and painting ordinary things.

Hit don't matter how lop-sided the end result is. What matters is the peaceful feeling I get, as I concentrate on a familiar object and attempt to really see it.

Maybe I should get stoned to further enhance the experience. . .

 

Learning Curve

Our amaryllis gave us weeks of enjoyment and I took lots of pictures. Now, while we wait for what looks like a second flower stalk on its way, I'm trying to use some of those pictures to help me learn how to deal with that tricky mottled shading. (A previous attempt, working from the actual blooming plant, showed me I had a long way to go.

I also resurrected a picture taken many years ago at the Grant Distillery garden in Scotland--a Himalayan blue poppy--the most amazing shade of blue and one I tried to replicate without success. I'll try again, but first I'll do some color samples till I find what works to show the wonderful transparent glow.

It's almost a form of meditation. I get so deep into the picture, paying such close attention to every curve and line, that sometimes I forget to breathe.  And the imperfection of the work is beside the point. It's the doing that matters--process, not product.