Category: Blitherings

A Frisket, A Frasket . . . .

I’ve been taking a basic watercolor course at the local adult school with one of my favorite teachers. I decided to do this as it never hurts to return to basics as it can be eye-opening. Here, one of our studies. This one made me rethink using frisket as a resist quite a bit, and while I may never really embrace this – using frisket to maintain white paper – I really learned a lot from this little study.

First, the teacher provided us with a template to use – namely the rose. We transferred it to our watercolor paper by using graphite on the reverse of the template. We were to outline the white areas and then, using the liquid frisket, paint out the white areas. This way we could apply very wet washes to the paper without losing our hard edges and white paper.

Once the frisket dried, we wet our paper around the rose. Colors were dropped in using viridian, quin rose, and phthalo blue. We kept our paper flat and worked relatively quickly. Once the outside colors dried, we moved into painting the rose. Wetting the rose, the colors were then applied using cad red light and quin rose. The violet was a mixture of blue and rose, but I also used carbazole violet as it is a very clean purple. Once more, paper kept flat as the colors dried.

From there, little details were added, such as leaves, extra contrast, and so on, all using various tricks common to watercolor. In the end, once all was dried, the frisket was removed and little bits of color added here and there over the white areas. Lines, bits of color.

And this is the result! It is an abstract and very watercolory and painterly rose. Techniques were wet-in-wet, masking with frisket, and some dry brush. I also splattered a bit of quin rose and carbazole violet onto the surface to make it a bit more interesting to my eye.

Watercolor, frisket, 10×10 Canson XL watercolor paper, wet-in-wet and splatters. Colors were limited to carbazole violet, viridian, phthalo blue, cad red light, quin rose, and a smidgen each of burnt sienna and cad yellow.

Another Bit of Snow

Today I played around with the same subject of the other day – a covered bridge with a bit of snow. The goal for today was a much more direct use of the colors, with very little returning to fix this or that with a glaze. Consequently, it is more casual and not especially refined – such as the bridge itself – but I like its simplicity and clarity of color. I met my goal in this painting. Below is the original from the other day.

I may choose to do this same picture a few more times – pen and color as well as another one more direct but done more carefully. It’s a good subject overall.

Watercolor, 10×14 Arches 140# CP.

A Bit of Snow

It is this time of year, the end of October, when I dream of autumn fading away and the first snows of winter arriving. I was born in mid-October, and my mother says she went into labor with me on a warm, sunny autumnal day and came home in a blizzard. I always remember this story, and as a kid loved seeing bright autumn leaves and berries still on the trees and bushes breaking through a fresh layer of snow. Weather like this was always a birthday present from Mother Nature!

Covered bridges spanning creeks are still in existence in various bits of the east coast. I imagine they were welcome resting spots for those on horseback or in open carts or wagons, out of the wind and snow or rain. For me, they are part of my own nostalgia for “the good old days” – and really lovely bits of historical architecture.

It has been a long time since I have witnessed the autumns and winters of hardwood woodlands. They always linger as some of the most beautiful memories. The mid-west and eastern states of New York north are where I want to be this time of year. But, where I live, in sunny SoCal, this is not the case, even though the Sierras have much to offer this time of year. And, admittedly, I am glad I don’t have to deal with chains and mukluks and woolies and long johns. I will admire the change of seasons from afar, more so in my dotage.

Watercolor, unknown watercolor paper with poor sizing, 11×14.

On Gravelly Paths

Old age is not for sissies, so they say. I agree. Giving in to fear does not make for an enjoyable life. Falling and shattering my arm last year and smashing my heel bone in July have made me rather timid. It is very annoying. I have always had “sloppy joints” per the rogue orthopedist, and couple this with high arches and a tendency to supinate (turn my feet upwards on the inside), makes for high chances of a good tumble. And I have taken quite a few in my life time, but get back up and out. Now I do it with more conscientious feet movements after several rounds of occupational therapy and balancing instruction.

So, off to the local botanical garden to prowl along gravelly paths where stones easily skitter underfoot. (That reminds me I once had a cat I named Underfoot Ticklewhisker.) No dog, just me and a camera and a cell phone in my shoulder bag.

Come walk with me . . .

I keep thinking this may be a California Redwood, but I may be wrong. For some reason I really want to call it an ironwood, but, hell, I forgot to look at the tag! Nonetheless, it is a tree I always look at because of the deep red and shedding bark contrasted by bright green leaves. Today it was particularly delightful.

Not many flowers remain, and these California fuschias (again, “I think”!) were some of the few remaining flowers in bloom. Against the deep greens of rosemary, the pale green leaves and bright orange flowers are very attractive.

Oak trees fill the garden! Another perennial favorite of mine year round. There are a lot of them that I cannot help admire, and if I were a kid, I would be up in them, climbing as high as I dared.

At the far end of the garden is a path that leads around the hillside and down into the creek and woodlands. This is the beginning, but in my cautious state, I won’t do it alone. It is not a well traveled path and a fall could be very nasty. This also shows you how dry it gets here in SoCal in the fall before the rainy season begins.

One lovely part of the garden is the rare fruit orchard. Depending on where you live, these fruit trees could be common or rare. Here is a green sapote, in leaf and bearing fruit. It is a native to Mexico and is rather odd to my taste, but it is good. Also, there are signs to not pick the fruit, in part because of insecticide, but also to let others have a chance to enjoy the gardens. Locally there is a warning sign about invasive flies of some kind.

About here, I sat down. This is at the top of the hill and I was pretty pleased with my progress. A few stones underfoot, but I made it without a problem. Going downhill would be more precipitous, but I planned to return the same way I came up – the inclines are not steep and there are benches along the way.

Before descending, I had to get a view to the northeast, overlooking the city and into the mountains beyond. The sky was gorgeous with that deep autumnal blue as well as clouds – not a common site over our dry region!

And I made it to the bottom of the hill with rather irritated knees but not a fall at all. (Or perhaps, not an autumn at all?)