There's so much about watercolour that I absolutely love but it can be the most frustrating medium to work with. When something unpredictable and beautiful happens I'm over the moon with the results. When I can't make the magic happen again, I just want to pull my hair out LOL. Take the following for example.
This started as an exercise in contour drawing - you start wherever you want but once you've started, you mustn't lift the pen from the paper, drawing in one continual line, trying not to backtrack over the lines if possible. The idea is to get you to slow down and really observe the subject. (This session of Sketchbook Skool is called Seeing after all)
Turned out to be much harder than I thought and I admit to losing patience once I made it through all of the cherries, so just ignore the piss poor plate if you will. Once the drawing was done we could go back and hit it with some colour and this is where the frustration comes in for me. I absolutely adore the look of the middle left cherry. It looks luscious and juicy and 3 dimensional to me. Happy, happy, joy, joy. But here is where the angst comes in. I painted it at the same time as the remaining cherries and I'm not nearly as pleased with them.
The funny thing is, when I was painting them, that was the one I thought I'd really screwed up - it was darker than I wanted, I lost the highlight and had to scrub it out, I inadvertently painted the stem with payne's grey instead of the undersea green - so I thought the whole thing was going to be a loss and yet I just want to pick that one cherry up and eat it LOL. And I don't even really like cherries.
(Sigh) this is one of those humbling moments where I remember all mileage is good mileage, that not everything is meant to be a finished product as long as I learned something from it. At the moment that lesson seems to be I need to screw up more often; once I've stepped away from my paints for the day I'll find a better way to phrase that LOL. The really good thing though is that I want to do this exercise again.

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