Sometimes I make myself crazy over what colors to choose from (54 watercolors in my main palette with movable pans. Plus, gouache and Primatek gem paints). Last year I challenged myself to use only three primary colors per series, resulting in five different primary sets and series. Another thing that makes me crazy is the porcelain palettes and my tendency to save left over paint in them, then forgetting which colors I mixed. In an effort to tame this madness and towards the effort to understand the nature of the paints I use, simply to paint in a way that makes me swoon (and hopefully you as well), I made an end of the year plan.
This, after I created my 2022 ReView, a December retreat exercise that accompanies the Lotus and Lily project. I wholly enjoyed making the 2022 ReView this year, excited that I came up with a unique title (I think, anyway, I’ve never seen it spelled that way) because it really was seeing things again in the container of the passing of time through the four seasons.
The plan is to make a color graph, which should have been done years ago. But I realize and accept, welcome even, that I am a beginner, and coming to this with a beginner’s mind.
First, I washed all the palettes. This in itself needed examination. Which palette to use for which purpose. The one that looks like egg carton holds four sets of the main primaries I will use, from which to mix in either the large round ones, or small stacked ones. For some reason I separate Indigo into its own four sectioned palette.
Thought to self: the grids don’t have to be perfect. After quite a bit of time the vertical and horizontal squares were filled in with the essential colors. After most of the day the Quinacridone Rose row was complete. Never mind that it is slow work, the alchemy that plays out in front of my eyes keeps me at attention. Not wanting to stop, despite sore shoulder, I painted most of the Alizarin Crimson row. At this rate it might take till the end of the year to fill the blanks.
In addition to seeing the wee pond in the distance that appeared thanks to the recent rains, the studio is the sundial annex of Sunwise Farms. The sun fall tells me how much time I have, or if I have to close the blind so I’m not blinded. Shadows of these moments are like companions as we careen towards the solstice in a few days. So are the small artworks just perfect for the narrow wall space.