Harebells

We'd been walking along the track on the Anne Griffiths Way in mid-Wales, under a hedge of ferns and bush, when we spotted two slight blue flowers. Are they bluebells?, I asked. Later, on Plantnet, I checked them out - harebells, the Scottish word for bluebells. A gardening friend also confirmed you do see bluebells in August. Well, I never had until now. Still, I needed a subject to paint, which would take me back to the place and time we'd been on holiday the week before. Great open skies, green valleys..? There is a whole world beneath us we walk past without noticing. I'd enjoyed painting a spring flower scene in the wildlife garden, I recalled, so wanted to try again with a similar scene.

I brought the image up on my tablet and sat looking at it for the grounding, the main forms, where the light falls, the deep shadow. This a small scene, so I thought I would use a small canvas rather than A3. The grounding was raw umber with mixing white. I worked on sections, putting in the background before moving towards the foreground. I found it tiring, continually keeping looking at the detail in an imperfect way. A strange balance is needed between recording what is there and painting what might be. I allowed myself the thought that I didn't have to finish in one sitting. Maybe, I should have waited...one for the future? What happens to your paints, if you do? Do they dry up? I know, but...I kept on going and broke through. I gave myself up to painting with my imagination as well as my eye. And I lost myself in the work. Before you know it, I had painted the last stroke.

Friends tell me they see a face or a bear, even an octopus (I have some strange friends!). This is the magic of paint. But my original intuition in choosing this scene proved right. It gives me great pleasure looking at it now and will go up on a wall in my study. And, not having painted for a few weeks, it felt good to be back. I'm looking forward to next week, whatever scene it brings, although I have an idea!