A painting begins

A beginning

The Fort Reno chapel seems a simple subject for a painting, brilliant white walls, straight angles, blue shadows, lots of  stories, considering it was built by German POWs in 1944, the year of my birth.
But simple it isn't I discovered as I began trying to do a watercolor, remembering that "I'm not a camera, I'm an artist," as the terrific painter Thomas W. Schaller writes in his book, "Architect of Light."

Final value study

First steps are value sketches, from an earlier one on site this week. Even that's not simple as you try to get perspectives and proportions correct. It took several attempts and views, while deciding on composition, and paints.
Then there was choosing the colors, looking for complementary and thus contrasting colors (in this case, blues and oranges).  a few experiments mixing paints, and at least three attempts of the skies on watercolor paper.
There was more "stewing," considering the composition, another value sketch, and more mixing of colors. And, underneath it all, figuring out what really inspired me, and what story I'm trying to tell. More on that later. 

And then I put the photograph away and don't look at it when painting, as advised by one of my workshop teachers Tom Lynch. I'm not painting the chapel, but what inspired me, again from Schaller.
Today, first stages in what I hope will be a work of art, not the  photograph I took Tuesday.

Why Blue? Stories of color

"Why Blue?" Today's #watercolor, 5 x 7 140 lb. d'Arches cold press paper

I couldn't paint without blue.
"What's your favorite color?" my wife asked this weekend. She knew the answer.
"Blue," I blurted.
"Why blue?" She has the habit asking unanticipated questions, I don't know the answer to.
"Come here," I said, and we went down the hall to where I paint.
"Look," I said, as I proceeded to pull out all the different blues I use in watercolor, putting them down on paper one-by-one, side by side.
That's when I realized, more than ever, I couldn't paint without a blue.
My standby is Ultramarine Blue, using more of it than any other color; but there are others, and all have stories.
Artists I study with usually mention one or two they use often. Some I try, and then rarely or never use. Others become, as one teacher said, "friends."
Others, like Ultramarine, are essential.
This afternoon's watercolor has nine different blues melded together. Stories.

• Ultramarine. Strong. Deep skies. Mixed for great grays for clouds, and greens.
• Cobalt. Weaker skies. Mixed for far away skies, certain grays, and strong shadows. Also for shades for chimisa plants. (New Mexico, get it?)
• Thalo (Phalo). A stainer. Great for adding distance over backgrounds, adding evening moods.
• Turquoise. I'm from New Mexico. Any questions?
• Royal. Most recent. Strong, dark. Great for contrast.
• Prussian. Dark. Makes dark greens.
• Indigo. Darkest of the darkest. Less is more. Mix with Prussian for dark forests, more. Overdone becomes muddy.
• Peacock. Almost thalo, less stain, brilliant. A "juice" color, according to one teacher, Tom Lynch. Grabs eye.
• Antwerp. One teacher used it. Not sure of difference. Maybe more subdued for English countryside.

Yes, blue is a primary color--can be used in many mixes for other colors. Don't need many. So of those above about three are the most common on my palette.

But they all express emotions, stories, that may fit my mood when I'm trying to paint.

Interestingly, I never say "I'm feeling blue," when I'm sad or depressed.  

Blue is a color of life and art and experience. For me, it is indeed "primary."

--Next, the colors I can make with blue.

More color, more contrast--Fajada

"Fajada Sunrise," 5 x 7 watercolor, 140 lb Fabriano Artistico paper

"More color, more contrast," wrote my latest watercolor teacher, Tom Lynch, today, in response to another question.
I've been working on that recently, but I've been having trouble painting Fajada Butte, in Chaco Canyon, New Mexico.
The place is magic to me, and I've painted it before, and will again. After a couple of failed attempts at being too literal, and absorbing ideas, I tried this sunrise scene.
First attempt, today. My photo is from outside under natural light, but not satisfied with it either. I can do better. Will use different, heavier paper.

Not dead yet, and there will be lots more color in my watercolors

Tom Lynch and I with one of his dynamic watercolors

This will be the only post this month and it's not writers' block--I've shied away from the keyboard, given circumstances, and just not wanting to spend time here.
It's all part of my Do It Yourself Art School. 
It began with five great days in New Braunfels, just north of San Antonio, studying watercolor with the internationally known Tom Lynch. http://www.tomlynch.com/
I've got 47 pages  of notes and many exercises from someone who really knows how to teach. Hosted by the classy New Braunfels Art League, which owns a building and gallery in this Germany town, it was a treat of inspiration, practicality and good German food for this Okie in the midst of 16 Texan artists.

Tom at the head of our "classroom"

Tom's intense 9 to 5 sessions were the equivalent of a three-credit hour upper level course crammed into four days. 
So many stories. So much to learn. So much to paint.

Back home, there was a lull after the storm of ideas and learning, and almost everything I've tried to paint has  been more of a lesson than something to exhibit.

Tom critiquing a student's work, always encouraging, demonstrating

And now, other events will occupy me including continued learning. But I had to post just one thing so the blog would not skip a month. It's been active since May, 2009, though this is the only month since then with just one post. So there is that challenge. 
Next month, more painting, more stories. And the experience will change the way I paint--there will be lots more color in my watercolors.