So yes, I ended up starting again with this one. Unhappy with the composition and the general direction of the first blackberry painting I decided to put it to one side and I make head way with another. I am happy to say that within minutes of me doing this I was pleased I made this move and remain to be. I had been umming and errring about it, but after the eclipse something shifted in me and I went straight ahead in making a new painting. I didn't feel angry or sad about this, only positive.
|Blackberry branch (Rubus ulmifolius), a work in progress|
So it's been two weeks and this is where I find myself. I hope to finish it in the next few days... the speed is ramping up as I get into the groove and memorise the new tricks I have learnt with this one, for I have learnt many! This is the first time I have tackled a berry like this since I painted that bunch of grapes back in 2011. I find myself re-deploying many of these skills I learnt back then for this piece, but also a few newbies. My hard mini brush has been an absolute God-send. I use this for the highlights and to merge colours together. It comes out on every painting, but with this one it is pretty much in permanent use. I have learnt that transparent yellow is very, very useful at making the berries look three dimensional when placed in the right area (green on the black berries) and that the colour is never what you think it is. I wish I had done this on vellum in a way too. There is something about the rough finish of the Saunders Waterford that doesn't lend itself very well to shiny berries. The burnisher has been very much used on this one.
|On the easel....|
So there is my update. Not much going on in the world of Inky. All very quiet really. I have been thinking about the RHS again and trying to work out what I might do for my Christmas cards, but that's all as I eagerly wait for my next subject of the commissioned triptych to do its thing and open up... Hint - it is a nut.
Had my eyes tested - they've got worse, which is hardly surprising. Even more short sighted now, but that's ok, as long as I can still see up close. We can't have it all and I'd rather go this way if I had to choose. The great news is I have a beautiful optic nerve - he was an Italian optician whose use of words was rather wonderful.