There I was — ribbons in my hair, cute apron. Tres chic! Beautiful blank white paper in front of me.
Yikes! Now what??
It was like taking my first step or learning to drive a car. And that's how I began this wonderful journey. And very soon after, I started to realize that it takes a LOT of practice, Much to my dismay, my first attempt was not the Monet I had imagined. Nor the second or the third... But little by little I developed my craft. How different brushes create different effects. How too much or too little water affects the flow of the paint. How making a sketch, or not, creates a whole different painting. How mixing colors changes EVERYTHING. I had a blast! (still am!)
The most important thing I developed was a sense of me, the artist. This was my creation, my art. Bobbin, not Monet. There were no rights or wrongs. Yes, there were and still are techniques, color formulas that set the foundation. But I held the brush.
Comentários