Hope the New Year is off to a good start for you.
Over here all is good. Keeping the brush moving with lots of ideas as I prepare for upcoming classes. Sometimes there are so many painting ideas in my head it feels like bursting. Not going there though - messy.
I am so enjoying the final planning for the February collage course. This subject is perfect for learning to understand how to make a good composition. Think of the component parts of your painting: shapes, values, colour, edges, focal points and pathways - as different instruments in an orchestra. To write an outstanding symphony you will need to understand the unique characteristics of each instrument and how they work together. My goal for this course is to help participants understand the component parts of a painting, and how to make these work together for outstanding results. Yes, there are a lot of variables, but these can be broken down and applied until it all makes sense. The number of variables, and the countless ways they can be combined, ensure infinite possible interpretations in paint.
Really looking forward to this course!
Still a few more spots in Wednesday Evening class:
"Perhaps the most wonderful aspect of learning composition is - as you get a firm grasp on the concepts, they do not constrain you. Instead they open up infinite expressions based on sound principles. It's like learning a language - the more words you know, the more uniquely you can express yourself
For those of you who enjoy my writings, I include the following. For those of you who don't enjoy my writings, you can skip this. :)
She didn't speak often. Everyone assumed she had nothing to say; but they were wrong. She just didn't speak often.
Her thoughts came out as colours. Even her heart's deepest wishes were there, if anyone had eyes to see. And sometimes it was simply the peace that came with the silence that flowed from the end of the brush. And sometimes it was regret and pain and a running away. There were times when hope and laughter and joy flowed too. So much to say with colour and canvas. And not infrequently, the paint was mingled with tears.
He didn't speak often. Everyone assumed he had nothing to say; but they were wrong. He just didn't speak often.
His thoughts came out as notes. Even his heart's deepest wishes were there, if anyone had ears to hear. And sometimes it was simply the peaceful silence between the notes that flowed from the ends of his fingers. And sometimes it was regret and pain and a running away. There were times when hope and laughter and joy flowed too. So much to say with notes and music. And not infrequently, the notes were mixed with tears.
She didn't speak often, but she had so much to say.
He didn't speak often, but he had so much to say.