I’ve learned that if you don’t like a style of a painting, you can switch books and try again. Two paintings of the very same thing will give you a whole different way of painting it, and as a lover of lily pads and water lilies since childhood, I wanted a less finished look, more watery and abstract than my first lily painting with the harder lines. It’s an important thing to know. My friend Glenda encouraged me to try my bird of paradise again, after painting one I did not like. I plan to do that, but first I saw a lily that invited me to do the same thing, and I learned something about watercolor painting.
I learned I like the watery, unfinished look of things, where the lines are free to blur and the color can you outside the lines and look better than it does when it doesn’t spill out. Take this second lily, for example. It needs more green in the leaf part, but look at the top petals. It’s reassuring that not everything has to live within the lines or be all the same expected shades and colors to be pretty. I like that about watercolors, and I like that about life and people.
Now take a look at this ugly watercolor lily pad below, the one that looks like a moldy croissant or a sideways-sleeping green zebra from the back end. The colors don’t bleed right, and my learning that happened here was in discovering the kind of paintings I like to see and do. I learned I like things less realistic and more abstract, with softer lines, softer colors, and more blur.
Every step, every mistake and delight in the painting journey is an opportunity for reflection on the process and the product. From the beginning of the first book to the middle of the second book I’ve been working through, I’m feeling the joy of creating something each time I sit down and pick up a brush. And I surprise myself sometimes with those little details that turn out in some paintings. Like knowing a style of shoes or clothes, and taking an armful of outfits into the dressing room to find that one fits and most don’t and it’s okay to not like everything even though it looked good for a minute on the mannequin or the hanger.
Throughout the month of May, I’ve been sharing watercolors and learning along the way. This is a hobby I’ll continue. I dream of weekends where I can go kayaking with my son and his growing family along the South Carolina coast, and weekends where I can go out west and paint with my daughters in the desert when I retire and have more time to get away. If I were painting with my daughters tomorrow, for example, this is how I would envision it:
For the month of June, my blog theme will be Family Photos. I’m sorting large tubs of pictures my brother and I have been staring at in a corner of Dad’s house as we’ve scratched our heads and wondered just what should become of them. So I brought them home with me on my last trip there and will attempt to make sense of the process by sharing some of the pictures here and writing the stories before passing some on and keeping some. If you’re a blog reader who has ever dreamed of taking pen to paper and writing, or if you’re a reader with a blog of your own and would like to join me in sorting your own family photos and sharing your stories, I invite you to come along and see what we can all unearth from the annals of time as we welcome the month of June.
come along with me
on a journey back in time
re-framing moments







Thanks for the invitation to explore old family photographs and stories in the month of June. I don’t know if I have the family photos. I think they went home with my brother, but I have a memoir in verse I may want to revisit about the flood of 1979. Its working title is Flooded Pictures.
Thanks for teaching me so many watercolor lessons this month. I agree that the first image is more appealing, the soft edges.
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