I spent the past few days experimenting with on-location gouache painting, from my car studio, of course. I don’t have a good setup for the car like I do for watercolour, but somehow I managed to make it work by balancing a butcher tray on the passenger seat. A bit of a messy endeavour but it was a good temporary solution until I figure out a better setup.
My first sketch was done on Stillman & Birn beige paper, which gives a warm glow under the paint. I did my initial drawing using raw umber pigment and then painted on top of that. The result is quite pasty, maybe because I used too much white paint in my mixes. This stuff does take a bit of getting used to.
The next day I changed my working methods. First of all, I used a block of cold press watercolour paper, instead…
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Haiku The wonder of bees Pollenating the flowers And feeding the world Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©
Image by Pixabay.com
My husband of many years
Suddenly announced that we need silk sheets
I managed to stop myself from laughing
And said, we will slip out of bed
His smile, that twinkle in his eyes
I had not seen for many a year
He said he had a different kind of slipping in mind
I thought no more of it until I found
Silk sheets on our bed
My husband has found a renewed sense of youth
The bonus in this, is I didn’t slip out of bed…
Senryu Like a twisted vine I am entangled with you Now and forever Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©
IT’S CALLED ACTING
And has two wonderful sons
Her life is happy
NOTE: One of Victoria Borodinova’s strengths as a model is that she does many different kinds of photos with different moods. Many models just look pretty. Victoria does much more than just look pretty.
Photo: Lake Ballard shore line.
“We are in the mountains and they are in us, kindling enthusiasm, making every nerve quiver, filling every pore and cell of us ….” John Muir
Surely you know a spider’s web
all sheen of gossamer neatly strung
finely tuned to capture,
just like the web
that its my heart
which captures breathless
beauty that escapes words,
quivering with the slightest tremor
of the subtlest emotions,
my body wrestling visions.
©Paul Vincent Cannon