Like a floodlight in a theater, a single ray of sunshine casts light on a white water lily. This bloom seemed to speak in a quiet voice of its singleness, reminding me of our isolation during this pandemic. Reminding me also of how grateful I am that I can witness such gifts from nature that bring so much joy and hope. For the sun will, indeed, rise tomorrow. Rachel Carson says it better: “There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature – the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.”
This painting began with a simple sketch in pastel. I then used brush and alcohol to create an underpainting. When the underpainting was dry, I gradually defined the shapes using pastel. I was mindful of not creating too much detail - I want you, the viewer, to be engaged in the painting by filling in some of the detail yourself. I hope I've succeeded in leading your eye to the white bloom – “The Star of the Show.”
Like a floodlight in a theater, a single ray of sunshine casts light on a white water lily. This bloom seemed to speak in a quiet voice of its singleness, reminding me of our isolation during this pandemic. Reminding me also of how grateful I am that I can witness such gifts from nature that bring so much joy and hope. For the sun will, indeed, rise tomorrow. Rachel Carson says it better: “There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature – the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.”
This painting began with a simple sketch in pastel. I then used brush and alcohol to create an underpainting. When the underpainting was dry, I gradually defined the shapes using pastel. I was mindful of not creating too much detail - I want you, the viewer, to be engaged in the painting by filling in some of the detail yourself. I hope I've succeeded in leading your eye to the white bloom – “The Star of the Show.”