The original plan was to spend part of Sunday afternoon doing the cover illustration for the Piker Press, but once I got out to the studio, I was too content with the idea of not working on a Sunday, and so opted to play with my watercolors again.
The online watercolor class had a bit in it about using wax paper to produce texture. It didn't do much for my cheapie kids' washes in blue and green, so I crumpled the wax paper, dripped some purple, blue and green onto it, and applied it to the paper, which was Bienfang cold press 140 lb, not that I know what that means. It looks much more interesting close up, so feel free to click on the image and examine it more closely.
While I was waiting for the two sloppy pieces of quasi-art to dry, I indulged my nastiest current habit: reading NFL articles and their attendant message boards. Today's treat was a story announcing that the Broncos had signed Caleb Hanie as Peyton Manning's backup. 28 pages of comments ranged from applauding Hanie's skills and the wisdom of Broncos' management to bitter predictions of a Broncos losing season after Manning gets wrecked again and Hanie can't figure out whether to throw with his hands or with his feet. From "Elway was a moron to get rid of Tim Tebow!" to "Tim Tebow was a hack who has no place in the NFL!" the commentary ran on and on like a vicious-tearful-accusatory-flirtatious soap opera, and as I was all alone in the studio, I was free to read it all without having any other member of the family cast a disgusted eye upon me.
Well, except Howie, but he didn't know what I was reading, he was just disgusted because I wasn't taking him for a walk.
Using tube paints (equally cheap, I might add) I put some swaths of color on a piece of dry Strathmore cold press 140 lb paper, and did the wax paper experiment again. Much more interesting result.
I can see images in the latter piece that make me want to try to draw a picture out of the mess. Is that valid art, or is that just a senior citizen kid in an unformed art exercise?
Yet why should I worry if it is? Haven't I been yapping for years about always feeling compelled to have my art be marketable or representational or "proper?"
How many years do I have left? Wow, probably not as many as I have toes and fingers. I think I have to take the opportunity to play with art a little before I run out of time, and stop listening to my mother's voice in the back of my head, the voice that abhors abstract or unpretty art.