the beginning of learning

The beginning of learning is wanting.  Learning begins with wanting.  When I first wanted to paint I was a child and I wanted something from art that a child craves.  Desire was composed of bright pretty colors, realism, things that looked bold and compelling.

Return of the Prodigal

I’m back again.  There I am, hiding behind the blue compotier, visitor to my still life set up — the one that I leave around all the time even when I’m not painting.  You get a different point of view when you wander around the still life and simply enjoy the things.  And they look so strange and different when you examine them up close and from the odd angles.

There’s the creamer — on the other side of the compotier.  Crystaline blue rim of the compotier  completely fuzzed out by the camera becomes layers and veils of airy blueness.  And beyond that rim of blue, ah!  the bright territory of green folds that stretches ahead in the strolling landscape/still life lane ahead.

Out beyond the creamer, past the garden of flowers on the black background, past the odd ovaline fruitish-looking thingies and the tendrily lines, you can see the path to the salt cylinder with the famous “When it Rains it Pours” yellow girl bandishing her violet-colored umbrella.  Believe it or not I even found a koi pond near by.  It sits atop that decorated green box just ahead.

These guys were sure surprised to see me.  They don’t get lots of traffic at the tiny little koi pond in colored pencil lines inside the swirly golden frame.

Actually, I’m not doing anything remotely like still life painting these days.  It’s all koi all the time.  Big fellas, in comparison with which these are just little guppies.