Delamere One

I look at this and wish it could be better. I settle for 'good enough', remembering the practice for me is just to 'be' during the time I am painting. For the first time, I approached the table with no fear. I had selected the photo, taken during a walk in Delemere forest, near Frodsham, so slept contented. Some of my worst experiences have happened when I didn't know which subject to paint till just before sitting down to paint. I am painting remarkably quickly. Where it used to take two hours or more, now I'm 'finishing' in an hour and a half. Am I becoming slapdash? It is a thought. Perhaps, in time, I will spend time on each tree or stone but, for now, I enjoy the freedom of going for it. This wouldn't work nearly so well (get me!), if I hadn't taken time studying the photo, noticing the varying hues, the flows of the water, the patterns in the landscape, then choosing the paints to deliver it. And I  love the way the touch of a brush lets the viewer see what is there; see what they want to see. It can be a different experience for people. And I've noticed different shapes and patterns, even figures I never painted, yet somehow there they are. It may be looking at the painting from a new angle for a time. This happens often and I love it.

I don't seem to worry too much about perspective. I mentally divide the paper into thirds and paint what I see. The relative distances are all guesswork. So, I start off trying to represent something which looks like the image in the photograph, hoping that I will find myself in the process of painting and produce something original.

I like the water, a friend commented. The water was appealing. It turned out better than I thought. There are tree stumps and tiny islets surrounded by lake water. I can do this better. I have issues around maintaining focus. I did step back once or twice and made a hot drink. My neck too was hurting me a little. I decided from the start that the young tree in the centre of the image, a young, migratory silver birch, would be the central focus of the painting. I would have liked to have done it better - unprocessed titanium, silver, process magenta, sap green and yellow, experimenting with colour and application. I'd use a smaller brush for the upper branches. I didn't think it worked too well. Yet, regarding it on a stand on my living room window ledge, it is a pleasure to look at, shining in the sunlight. And that water! For these discoveries, I am grateful.

One of the sayings of my tutor, Clare, is that a painting is never finished. And I hear you cry, 'Where are the black headed guls?' Quite rightly so too, as there were many on the scrapes. Put simply, I meant to but forgot to put them in. I could add them to the painting but what if I were to paint the scene again. How different might it look? Well, I will find out next week!

And just before we go, I've just been into town to buy some paints I'd run out of - bright aqua green, teal, deep violet. How expensive are they! How do younger people, starting out afford to buy paint and all the rest?