So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.
— Herman Hesse
Yesterday I did a very rough small sketch (5.5″x3.5″) of a possible future painting. So today I still had it in mind when I woke up and decided to paint it in a bigger format. I am happy with the result even though there is some bloom which I like (I know that some people do not)… it depends on its location. If it takes place organically, a tree or flower blooming, I am fine with it. However if a bloom appears on an architectural element, then not so much. I first drew out the main objects in pencil, then I went slowly over the lines with a fountain pen filled with a beautifully permanent black ink and then painted over all of this… I rarely do the contrary, draw the lines over the watercolour as I find that the lines thicken and the paintings become more comic-like. It is a question of preference, actually.
I had to laugh today as someone commented on my blog that the “silly” season was soon upon us… love that expression, as it is true in some ways. If we gather around at a table without an abundance of gifts and are happy to be in each other’s company, then in my view all is good. But when gifts take over the celebrations, then we have lost the spirit of it all. To achieve balance in this notion is key….
Paper: Travelogue Sketchbook 8″x8″
Watercolours: DS Q. Gold, DS Q. Rose, MG Ultramarine, WN B. Sienna
Fountain Pen: Platinum 3776 EF (3776 meters, height of Mount Fuji in Japan)
Ink: De Atramentis Document Black Ink
Painted from a reference photograph that I took in St. Lazare