It’s been awhile since I’ve written in my blog. I’ve written on topics that were personal and helpful to me, just by getting them off my chest; however, the writings just didn’t seem important to post, at the time that I wrote them. Some have been rants, some have been political, and I try to keep this page free of the fighting and name-calling that one might see on various social media sites. Honestly, the divsion and turmoil that is running rampant in our country is exhausting…simply exhausting.
To ward off some of the stress that one cannot help but feel, I have started to study the art of watercolors. My dear sister-in-law, as well as a wonderful neighbor and dear friend have nudged me in this artful direction, simply by the wonders of their talent, through the pieces that they have created and gifted to me. I’m blessed to claim that I know the artists, when someone comments on the lovely pieces of work that add warmth, color, and meaning to the walls of my home.
On day two, of my experiment with watercolors, I was working on curves, circles, and learning several different tecniques for blending the paints. There was painting on dry paper, or dried paint, which is called WOD (wet on dry), and there was WOW (wet on wet), when you paint on wet paint, or paint with water and then add a bit of paint on the watered surface, which creates a bleeding of the paint into the wet surface. I was following all the instruction in the book that I am using and having a great and relaxing time while blending away. I had tried one of the WOW methods, where I painted a circle with water and added a dab or two of paint. On to the next circle of blending, or maybe three or four circles of blues and greens, and then I looked back at the wet on wet circle, where I dropped a bit of paint to do its thing.
All I could do was stare, as the circle was staring back at me. My daughters could tell you that I can’t draw a person, no matter how hard I have tried. It’s truly a gift to be able to capture an expression of someone, on paper using paint. My sister-in-law can; I cannot. Today was different. I painted a circle with water, dropped a bit of paint, and in a few minutes there was a face staring back at me.

After completing my lesson, I sent this “face” to a dear friend of mine that was an art teacher, earlier in her life. Her reply was simply, “Nice going. I encouraged my students to always look for the happy accidents. They just happen, but they may be trying to tell you something important!” Her sage advice got me to thinking….
The face reminded me of my grandfather. He had a way with his eyes, especially when I said something funny or doubtful; he would just give that side-glance, that he could do so well. He taught me to trust in myself, and to hold true to my belief, and to always rely on God. He didn’t teach me these important things so much by his words, as he did by his actions. He loved nature, and he loved art, and he taught me the reason why individuals value both. The value is in what you see, not so much what you are looking at, and why do you see beauty in the subject at hand? He taught me to look up and out, and if I’m in need of an answer, I’ll be certain to find that solution, in time.
My dear friend, the former art teacher, was correct. The happy accidents just happen, but they may be trying to tell you something important. It’s been a while since I’ve seriously looked up and out, and seriously focused on the simplistic parts of nature, that have always brought me peace. Day two of my art lesson, I was reminded to look at the happy accidents. I was reminded of a favorite man in my life, and his wonderful words of wisdom. Thanks to a dear friend that is equally full of wisdom; you are a treasure ~
This article, your writing, your content – you – always fill me with a sense of peace. I’m not quite sure why, or how, but it does. Maybe it’s because you were the first person to show me and my family kindness when we first moved to the US. As I’ve told you before, you were my first American friend. I’m so happy we’re still in touch, all these years later. Beautiful piece, Carol!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, Karen! Your kind words are encouraging and so, you! Yes, all these years later, and still in touch. Be well!
LikeLike