Location: Food for Thought @ North Bridge Road
If she’d been my art teacher when I was in school, I might have gone much further than I did. Even though she’s never been formally trained in art.
“So… how do you start?”
She literally washed the paper with water.
“And then? How do you paint?”
Her brush went wherever her heart felt like going. A dash of blue – and we had the sky. Deeper closer to heaven, lightening as it approached the earth.
“But… how do you know?”
Her simple answer was that she never did. And it didn’t matter. Whatever emerged, was the right thing. Paint a bit, observe the ‘thing’, see what it could be, then paint on, observe again, see what it could be…
“What about the details?”
She knows her brushes – their strengths, their character, their personalities. Different brushes, different strokes. Sometimes, just a different angle, different amount of pressure, works. Wash, dab, blotch, stain…
“Now you try it.”
My humble first attempt. Don’t ask me what it is. What does it look like to you? 🙂
You can always trust your family to tell you the truth.
Mum: “What’s this? Doesn’t look like anything! haha, actually it looks a lot like the stuff you used to draw when you were in nursery class…”