Thunderheads have been an obsession for me recently. I love watching the clouds grow tall — full & fluffy in the middle and yet dark & heavy with rain at the bottom. I’ve been snapping photos during the day and painting them in the evening. Or trying to at least.
There’s this particular scene of a pasture I passed last summer in my hometown of Franklin, Tennessee. Black wood slat fence in the foreground, beautiful trim pasture in the middle, an old red barn nestled against a distant treeline, all topped off with this gorgeous thunderhead.
I painted it once and it was way off. Tried a second time and got a better barn, but the clouds were so overworked they got wonky.
Searches for watercolor cloud tutorials didn’t really bring me much inspiration … until I came across an artist who was refreshingly upfront. She started the video by almost apologizing: her audience had been requesting a cloud tutorial, but she doesn’t feel like she has a solid method, not enough to make a tutorial anyway.
Yet what she did in her video was more inspiring to me than any tutorial. She filmed herself creating a cloud study. Six areas masked off on one sheet of paper, a different technique in each one. And as she was painting, she described what each study felt like: where she was struggling, what was working for her, what felt and looked ‘right’ to her eye and her taste.
I could feel my frustration lift. Here was an established artist who was also working on her technique! Here was permission to simply experiment and more importantly, permission to be less than perfect.
Tutorial videos were showing me the how, but not the human.
The human experience is feeling much more precious to me lately - maybe you too?
The clouds are building.
My own six blocks of cloud experiments have taken longer than I thought they would. I’ve been challenged with how wet the paper is, how thick the paint is, when to use thinner paint as I build cloud after cloud.
In trying different techniques I notice that I’m becoming more confident with my brushstrokes. There’s a sense of finding my own clouds, the ones which may not look like the photo, but feel like what my eye sees in the clouds. Not whether it looks like a rabbit or a unicorn, but whether it looks like a cloud only I could paint. The ones which feel full and fluffy, dark and heavy.
I find myself getting more curious about expression than technique.
The barn is still waiting, but I’m enjoying the practice. And I know when I get back to the pretty little pasture, the clouds won’t be perfect, but they will be mine.
Truly,
Jackie
Quiet Signal
Where in your work are you following someone else's technique? Where could you be less how and more human?
Signal Boosts
Want to explore more? Check out these resources:
Show Your Work by Austin Kleon is and easy-to-read inspiring little book that packs a big punch, reminding us of the impact showing our discoveries, ideas and works in progress will have on others - and ourselves.
Join the conversation! The Gap and The Gain is the focus for the next No Reading Required book chat August 18th. This book reminds us to see our work - our progess - with a fresh perspective. Reply for details.
What's On My Radar
It's the end of peach season here in Alabama. They've been sooooo good this year! Scooped up big baskets of them last week. All the work to freeze them will be so worth it come winter. Excited about a quick trip to the Smokies in the next few weeks, then prep for several fall workshops!
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Hi there! I'm Jackie.
I help thoughtful people show up fully without having to become someone they’re not.
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