Early Morning Thought
Sometimes I wonder where my hunger for color comes from. There are days where I would like to do nothing more than paint a giant bright orange stripe across the watercolor sheet. Then of course I would have to spend hours layer more orange and red and yellow into various parts. And maybe some bright blue would be thrown in because those two colors together make something inside me jump in delight. Is it the grey winters in the Northwest that drives my color starvation? I am not a colorful dresser by any means. Look into my closet and greyish greens fades into blacks and browns with the occasional orange scarf.
I heard something wonderful the other day in the caboose. There shouldn't be greys and blacks in paintings. It just makes them muddy. Take a closer look at a shadow or a dark spot and you will see the brightest colors. Metephor for life? Perhaps.
Color for a grey March morning:
I heard something wonderful the other day in the caboose. There shouldn't be greys and blacks in paintings. It just makes them muddy. Take a closer look at a shadow or a dark spot and you will see the brightest colors. Metephor for life? Perhaps.
Color for a grey March morning:
(An eye candy that will have to wait until my Kenya show is finished.)
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