I took a pretty ambitious path when I decided to paint Keith.
And although I could tell my preliminary sketch -- laying in the "bones of the painting" -- wasn't as accurate as I'd like, I went on.
Of course, it was a bold and crazy thing to attempt watercolor -- the first in years.
But Laura's work and my memory of James McMullan's work made me want flowing color.
I may have wanted flowing color, but flowing color was more like color-wrassling.
The inner creative dialogue went something like: "Yikes! Wassat?! No don't flow...argh! Dang it, now what will I do?"
I haven't worked with massed tones and areas in so long, it's like learning a new language -- with all the feeling inept and being unable to communicate that entails.
(My apologies for any formatting distractions on this post. Blogger is limited for page layout and I'm just not ready to move to Typepad yet. You should see the small Keith images above as a cascade, from left to right -- and these larger ones stacked top to bottom.)
Anyway...I reached for a tool I knew better. Or so I thought -- colored pencil on highly-textured watercolor paper is not the same thing as colored pencil on smooth vellum Bristol.
After teetering back and forth between my eye, my mind, and my hand, it was time to say "enough."