I have spent my time painting, checking out different types of mediums. I have found, watercolors, as much as I love them. Are very difficult for me. “Why!?” I wonder to myself with great intensity. Look at that simplicity! Just watery drops of color, translucent rebels blurring the lines. Not staying in their box, but pushing out into a bordering country of colors and blurring into perfect matching hues. Pools of brilliance, a perfect marriage of harmony. A scratch of linear lines, giving the thought of shape.
“Just follow the water, let it lead you” An artist once said to me, someone I admire muchly. Well, I cannot do it. Not without defining its lines, adding a bit more color, till the water is all but gone. Who is leading? Certainly not the art.
Is there a psychology behind this? Is it me? Do I over-think with my paintbrush? As much I over-think, or over analyze my own life? Is my art a reflection of who I am? What would happen if I let the art release me.
I do define the borders of my own life, like a guard walking the perimeters of its own castle. Untiring. Never sleeping. Because you learn early, once first that trust is broken. More so by someone who was suppose to protect you. They cannot. So, you must be ever vigilant in that control. The borders of your land, becoming smaller each time that trust is broken. Till one day, you have yourself locked in a small room, inside a large castle.
Could this be why Watercolor confounds me, it is just….too free? Too, borderless? Too, undefined? Perhaps I over-think, and over-analyze. Perhaps that is my prison.
All this just because I wanted to paint a damn picture in Watercolor.
“Just follow the water…”
It’s complicated in its most simplest form.
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