It was better than sex!

Golden Grin 10 x 14 Watercolor www.lynnehurdbryant.com

There is sex, that physical act, and then there is love making.  While often playing semantics, there is a discernible difference between the two.  Making love implies an emotional connection, a certain intimacy that transcends the physical, and often has nothing to do with sexual intercourse.  Making love can be present in all kinds of relationships, in fact, as it is the uniquely human ability to connect on a spiritual plane.

Suze Orman says, quite accurately, that women are more relational than men.  A woman cannot do well with anything in her life, unless she has a relationship with it.  While Suze is talking about women and money, I think this idea is important.  How many things do you have in your life, and how many of these things do you see in terms of relationship?

For me, one of these things is my artwork.  I have never considered that I have a relationship with it, nor have I felt that having a relationship with my art is important.  I have always considered my art to be an extension of myself, the "self" within.  When I post my work online I often feel naked, as though I have exposed something that should be kept covered up and private.  It feels as though I am baring my soul for the world to see.  Perhaps that is true, but there are other forces at work here too.

If you were to ask me two weeks ago if I had a relationship with my art, I'd have thought for a moment and felt, in a vague way, that it was a relationship of sorts, but a contentious one; I do a lot of fighting and arguing, frequently feeling a lot of disgust and frustration.  If I had a human life partner and we shared the sort of angst I have had with my art, we would soon be divorced.  No one likes to live like that!

Two days after my birthday, February 20, I had a "better than sex" experience with making art.  I made love with my art.  I have never done that before.  I realized, quite suddenly, that this is more than an extension of the self.  I suddenly understood that I have to build a relationship with this activity.  I have to love it unconditionally, appreciate it, build on it, trust it, believe in it, nurture it, as I would any important relationship in my life.  Then, and only then, am going to be able to relate to it as intimately as I did last week.  It was the most singular experience of my life, quite the defining moment.  It was the most intoxicating and draining, energizing and exciting emotional experience of my life.  It was like discovering that a passionate lover lives next door and it only took 37 years to notice how attractive that person is!

The brass tacks of painting will never be the same for me.  I have a profoundly intimate relationship with something of beauty and delicate substance, if I chose to honor it with my love.  And I do. 

Watercolors and white paint (or lack thereof)

Meet Charlie. He is a terrier and chihuahua mix, weighing in at about 5 lbs. He is a white dog, which brings me to my topic: Painting whites in watercolor.

In watercolor, you don't use white paint. The white of the paper serves for the white areas in a piece. So, painting a fuzzy white puppy would not seem possible. Take into account that my palette is comprised of juicy, floral fruity, almost candy colors. It does not contain any browns, grays or black. Now, look at the painting again with these things in mind. I managed to paint a white dog.

Given that there are no true whites in nature, and a white dog is not going to be pure white, I started out by putting down an extremely light wash of palette mud, that is a trace of leftover brown mixture and water, until it looked cream in color. That softened what could have been too a high contrast between white and the shadows. The brown touches on his ears are a combination of something called "Dragon's Blood" and Indian yellow, and a touch of Sap green. The cool gray shadows are a mixture of Alizurin crimson, Sap green, Indian yellow and Royal blue, which make black. By adding more or less of each of these components, I can "weight" the black to be more warm or cool, and both are used here.

Underpainting played a part as well. The deeper shadow areas behind the dog were underpainted with Royal blue, because of the depth of the pigment and also because it is not sedimentary and won't cause the overlaid paint to separate. Some of the shadows on the dog, such as those on his belly and under his ears, were underpainted very lightly with Alizurin crimson to warm them.

The background is a personal departure for me. I shun warm colors as a background. Cool colors recede, while warm colors advance. The client wanted her cranberry couch behind him, so what to do? (The photo didn't quite capture this, but cranberry it is.) I decided that the only way this could work, and still recede, was to play with warm and cool shadows throughout. By marrying local color to the background (Royal blue, Dragon's Blood, Alizurin) there is a unity that pushes the red back away from the subject. The warm shadows on the face fall against the cooler shadow in the background, and vice versa. I think it works.

The result of painting a white dog with no white paint and no earth tones, is a little fella who seems soft enough to stroke and cuddle up with.

---