The class took place at the Brooklyn Artists Gym. Our instructor was Allison, a local watercolor artist. She began with the obligatory boring stuff: brush care, paint and paper options, the importance of not eating paint, and so on. We then learned twelve different watercolor techniques. As you can see, I mastered each one:
There were eight other students taking the class. All women. The chatty emotional perfectionist sitting next to me made for an entertaining experience to say the least. What happens when a chatty emotional perfectionist spills a cup of water all over her paper? Hilarious. That's what happens.
Watercolor is not the medium for perfectionists. You have to learn to work with the water and know that sometimes it will not do what you want it to do. This is exactly what I like about watercolor. I like not being in total control of what emerges on the paper. Me? Not wanting to be in control? Some of you are very confused right now.
I couldn't help snapping some pictures of the table, which looked like art itself:
My paper towel also took on a beautiful appearance. Art everywhere!
Finally, we took a stab at painting something. Allison placed a variety of objects in the center of the table and told us to paint what spoke to us. This plant spoke to me. He said, "Do a mediocre job of painting me."
Actually, I don't think it turned out too bad. And I even had enough time to do a second painting:
The next day I went to Blick Art Materials and bought an 18x24 watercolor canvas, brushes, paint, and some watercolor paper to practice on. I intend to create a masterpiece, so stay tuned.