Raccoons and Crocuses

I'm a bad natural artist.  I was driving home late the other night when I noticed movement at the curb.  Being a keen observer of the natural world, I took a closer look and found that it was a raccoon!  "Cool, a raccoon", I thought to myself (I may have said it out loud too in a kind of gleeful squeel, I don't remember).  Did I stop the car and take a picture of the creature for future compositions?  No.  I was more than a block away before I realised that would be the appropriate response for a natural artist, and by then I was sure the animal had scurried away to wherever they go.  Note to self: your cell phone has a camera and you should must take pictures whenever opportunities arise!!!

Moving on...after struggling with fear and anxiety for about a day, I decided to take a deep breath and maybe see how the crocus might go.  This was a monumentus event.  Because my skill and experience in painting isn't what I'd like it to be, my natural inclination is to avoid any projects that could result in abysmal failure.  However, it seems I have an adventurous nature and tend to tackle big and scary things head-on.  It was an interesting 24hours, but the adventurous nature won out by applying logic - scary things don't get less scary by avoiding them.  So, I took the plunge.

I was careful not to think too much about what I was doing and followed the required preparation steps in a calm and methodical manner.  I figured that maybe if I creep up on it from the side, it won't see me coming and might turn out well - who knows?  I tried not to drag my feet in collecting my water, preparing my paints and transferring the image to watercolour paper.  That would be avoidance and what's to avoid in collecting water and preparing paint?

After doing the snowdrop picture, I thought I should try to keep the drawing to a minimum.  It probably isn't necessary to draw every vein in the petals.  Of course my anal nature did get a hand in and I think there's too much detail in the pistils and stamens, but we'll worry about them when we get there.  There's a whole bunch of other things to worry over until then!

Okay, so the first thing I thought I should do is apply masking to the pistils/stamens.  Because the petals of the crocus are purple and the pistil/stamens are orange, I felt it would help in the continuous movement of the paint on the petal to not have to worry about painting around stamens/pistils.  I poured out some of the masking fluid onto a lid and diluted it a bit with some water.  I used a popsicle stick to apply it to the painting.

Then I mixed the colours I wanted and tested them on a spare sheet of paper.  So far so good.  Nothing scary in these steps now are there?  Course not.  Now we just need to wet the paper on the first petal.  Go on, you can do it.  No big deal.  See?  That was easy!  Now add a little paint...just a bit more...there you go!  Once I got the first petal in, the rest wasn't so scary.  I kept an eye on my reference picture for accuracy, but I wasn't too concerned if I missed a vein or the colour was a little off.  It's the technique and the "feeling" of a crocus we're going for here.

After what felt like 10 minutes, but was actually an hour and a half, I had to step away because I'd finished all the petals.  It's at this point that my excitement can get the best of me.  I know because I've had previous experience with this.  I have had perfectly good projects go sour because I didn't stop when I should have.  It's kind of like when you go to the gym for the first time in ages and things are going really well...you start to get that high and all your muscles feel strong and your joints feel loose...and you say to yourself, "I think I could handle another 20lbs", or "I think I'll go for a run too, that would be fun"...and then you wake up the next morning and every muscle in your body is demanding payment for the treatment you've given it?  

That's kinda what happens in art too.  Things are going well.  You want to keep going because things are going well.  Then there's a small mistake.  You try to fix it.  Crap! You've made it worse.  That's okay, you can still fix it...oops no you can't.  Now it's truly broke and there's no coming back from what you just did.  It's either back to the drawing board or start something completely new and forget this ever happened.  Oh, and now that high you were feeling has turned into an ugly depression because what kind of a crappy artist ruins their own stuff like that...blah blah blah.

So, I figured it was time to walk away before I did any real damage.  I'm not sure how I feel about the image at this point.  I like some things, but not others, and it's too early to tell how it will all turn out.  I'm trying very hard to drown out the voices in my head that are screaming their opinions (they aren't the ones doing the painting anyway).  I think it's a good thing I have the weekend to step away from it and come back Monday with a fresh set of eyes.  Here's where it stands at the moment: