Handle with Care
A voice jolted me from behind as I was demonstrating before a small gathering.
“Watercolor isn’t for me. I can’t control it. I’ve tried.” She laughed and walked away.
I kept my head down trying to focus on the pigment flowing pure and unpredictable before me, but my inner dialogue had gone into overdrive. Not everything is for everyone and that’s okay. Walking away from something that doesn’t suit us is a good choice. But walking away out of…
A different observer spoke. “My mother was a watercolorist.”
I looked up. Our eyes met. “Want to try?”
Getting-to-know-watercolor exercises.
She hesitated. Others went before her accepting my invitation to try watercolor. She eventually sat beside me. I offered guidance as she dipped the brush into water, wet the paper and dropped in pigment. I showed her how to tilt the paper to encourage the colors to flow and mingle. We watched her emerging results, transfixed.
“I have all of her supplies.”
A stillness settled around us. “Think you’ll continue?”
“I might.”
“I hope you do.”
Watercolor play with a primary triad.
I remember being a fragile beginner. The local art guild needed one more participant to meet the minimum class size for a nationally known instructor to come to our town. I was told the three-day workshop was for all levels and I would be fine.
I paid the registration fee and I was not fine. The more experienced watercolorists flourished while the beginner floundered. I had been so discouraged and felt so defeated, I almost quit watercolor.
From that experience, I began picturing handle-with-care tags attached to all beginners. Soon, I believed we all had them.
The resilient red-shouldered hawk. Watercolor, 2016 ©June Rollins
When a fellow watercolorist returned from an advanced workshop, I asked how it went.
She shook her head. “He lost me after he said ‘hello.’”
We both laughed. Years of failed experiences had strengthened our resilience.
While Edison’s famous quote is true, it was written after his 10,001 attempt. Being in the throes of one failure after the other isn’t for the fainthearted. Like Edison and the red-shouldered hawk, we go after what we want until we get it.
I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work. -Thomas Edison
On the day of my demo, I did my best to encourage all who sat beside me. Most were new to watercolor and I loved seeing the light turn on in their eyes as they let pigments mingle and merge for the first time.
I had them sign and date their watercolors. I wanted them to have a reminder as they walked away so they would remember to return to that healing place that resides within all of us, the desire to create.
From the art,
June
