I was ready to commit to the drawing, so I painted a light, watery layer of color over it to better envision the entire piece. Then I proceeded to develop the painting, going over everything with stronger colors and more details. 
​
​After I'd taken the painting as far as I could go, I took a deep breath and a giant step back. It was time to ponder, push and pull. And to administer a few finishing touches. Were there any weak lines that needed strengthening? Any sharp edges that should have been softer? Could the painting use a bit more oomph by adding some dark accents? I made the necessary adjustments.

Suddenly loud warning bells started going off. Uh oh, the signal of approaching danger! I was standing a little too close to the edge, that fine line between overdoing it and leaving well enough alone. It was time to step away from the painting and put the brushes down.

And so there it was, the painting was finished. All in a day's work. The only thing left to do was to roast the eggplants. They were delicious. 

You can click on the image to see it larger, to purchase, or to ask me additional questions about the painting. Thanks for visiting!​

In our last episode I featured a painting of flowers with not just one but several glass vases. Colored glass is one of my favorite subjects to paint. I love the beautiful tinted shadows that are produced when light passes through it. And the way that glass sparkles with little highlights of reflected light. Fun, right? 

In fact, the vases were so much fun to paint that I looked around for more shiny objects. On one of my forages through the kitchen I spotted some fine-looking peaches sitting on the counter in a stainless steel bowl. I thought maybe a bit of striped fabric would make for some interesting reflections. I wasn't keen on all those energetic stripes overwhelming the whole composition though. That's why the stripes nearest to the bowl were painted with more intense color and contrast, while the surrounding ones were left a bit hazy. The lemons were placed in a sort-of semicircle leading the viewer's eyes on a little walk around the bowl and stripes before heading back to the juicy peaches. 

You can click on the image to see it larger, to purchase, or to ask me additional questions about the painting. Thanks for visiting! 

I have a confession to make: I'm not a very fast painter. (Yet! I'm working on that.) So whenever I set up a still life of perishable objects I estimate how long it will take to paint. This is important why? Because flowers wilt and food left out of the fridge goes bad! And when they go bad they're not particularly pleasant, if you know what I mean. So, if my set up is threatening to turn, the bad news is that I've got to work fast. But that's good news too, because it doesn't leave much time to overwork the painting. And if you've read my previous post, you'll know I prefer to keep my paintings looking fresh.

Okay, so here's my strategy. First I do a quick pencil drawing and lay a light wash or two of color over the whole composition. This establishes where all the objects will go, what their general color is, and the direction of the light. It gives me an overall impression of where the painting is headed. Then I get right to work on any fragile vegetable matter, finishing it as quickly as I can. When that's done I breathe a sigh of relief, because then I can take my time completing the rest of the painting. Phew.

That was my plan for the painting below. My bouquet had been around for a few days and was just beginning to fade around the edges. After tossing out a few lifeless flowers I needed to put the remaining ones into a smaller vase. When I took a bunch of vases down from the shelf to make a choice they looked so pretty together with all their different shapes, sizes and colors. So I decided to put them all into the painting. Hey, Giorgio Morandi did it, so why not me.

You can click on the image to see it larger, to purchase, or to ask me additional questions. Thanks for visiting! ​

​Follow me!
Facebook   Instagram  Subscribe

 Why do people love realistic looking paintings? The more a painting resembles a photograph, the more most people seem to admire it.  Maybe that's because it takes real virtuosity to pull off a photorealist painting. And, like watching Olympic athletes, we love to see people excel at things we have little chance of accomplishing ourselves. Sure, I get that. I even admire some photorealist watercolorists myself. But it's not a style I try to emulate. 

Why not, you ask? Well, perhaps it's just a matter of personal taste, who knows. But I'm attracted to a more spontaneous, understated and fresh approach. One that watercolor is particularly suited to with its playful, watery ways. It's one of the reasons I decided to study the medium in the first place. And, by the way, to do it well takes incredible virtuosity! That's why I keep on learning and practicing, just like an athlete does. 

Which brings us to the next question: When is a painting finished? And when is it overdone? As in cooking pasta, I believe it's best to take it off the fire before it gets mushy. While it's still al dente, if you will. Maintaining that delicate balance between describing too much and just enough. To create an illusion you can understand without being shown everything. To say it's not easy for the artist to stop before crossing that line is a complete understatement. A painter is always, always tempted to add just one more little thing. And then another. And so on. Oy!

Okay, so I was going for that magic balancing point when I painted these veggies from the farmer's market. Fortunately there was an automatic time limit because we were having corn for dinner. With no other choice, I had to finish it before dinner time. So I refrained from painting each and every leaf,  every single corn kernel, and every little silken hair. Instead my best effort went toward suggesting them, and leaving room in the viewer's imagination to fill in the blanks. Something that the human brain is designed to do.

You can click on the image to see it larger, to purchase, or to ask me additional questions. Thanks for visiting! ​

What do I do when I can't get outside to paint? I paint indoors, of course! Every weekend I'm drawn to the rich bounty of fruits, veggies and flowers at my neighborhood farmer's market. They're so fresh and juicy, and come in gorgeous shapes and colors.  A painter's dream. 

After hauling it home it's a challenge to arrange the harvest into pleasing compositions. It's an even bigger challenge to paint in watercolor. Well, for me, anyway. Fortunately I have the kind of personality that relishes a good challenge. Keeps me amused and out of trouble. 

You can click on an image to see it larger, to purchase, or to ask me additional questions. Thanks for visiting! ​

Like many of you who live car-free in urban areas, I don't get out that much these days. Summer is my favorite season of the year, but this year I feel it passing me by. Well, not just me of course. There are so many suffering far worse. After all, there's a little thing called a pandemic that's pretty much changed the entire world as we know it.

Personally, I got smacked the hardest when the warm weather showed up. I wait all year long to pack up my easel and brushes and take them to wonderful parks and places all around my city. This year safety precautions and family responsibilities put a cramp in that. However, I'm supposed to be a grownup so I try not to sulk. Not 24/7, anyway. Besides, painting indoors is fun. Even in summer. There are luscious, dreamy fruits and vegetables at my local farmer's market just calling out to be painted. So I try my best to memorialize their deliciousness before feasting on them. 

You can click on an image to see it larger, to purchase, or to ask me additional questions. Thanks for visiting! ​

Gary Tucker is a very fine and experienced watercolor artist. A few years ago he gave a workshop in New York City that I was fortunate enough to attend. What a fun and wonderful learning experience that was! Ever since then I wished that I could take an ongoing class with him. But alas, he lives in far away Boston, while I live in New York City. Well, one silver lining in an otherwise horrific pandemic is that Gary now gives weekly online watercolor lessons. I've signed up for every single one of them, and I'm so glad I did. Recently my understanding of this beautiful but tricky medium has gone way up, and all because of this opportunity to study with him. 

Below are two still life paintings that I set up in front of my window. They were done as homework for a lesson about using transparent glazes over washes of warm color. The first composition is a variation on the one that Gary painted during his demo. The second painting is my own original composition and  shows a pot of azaleas in front of the New York City skyline. You can click on an image to see it larger, to purchase, or to ask me additional questions. Thanks for visiting! 

For more information about his online watercolor workshops please visit Gary Tucker's website. Highly recommended.

Lately I've been taking my nonagenarian mother out for her morning walks whenever circumstances permit. Luckily she's an artist too. So it's not hard to persuade her to sketch outside with me for an hour or two. We can only walk a few blocks, and there aren't many parks close by. So we find little corners and courtyards and churchyards or really any old place with a few fresh blossoms that break up the gray. Sometimes it's a challenge to see beauty in an area that I'm so used to walking right past. But since we've started sketching together I've noticed more and more little spots that we can stop for a while and enjoy the view. Here are two brush pen and watercolor sketches from this week in my immediate neighborhood:

I'm so lucky to have found a wonderful sketching group, The New York City Urban Sketchers. It's the local branch of an ever-growing circle of sketchers from around the world. In normal times we meet weekly to sketch on location at various sites throughout the city. I love sketching with my buddies, and visiting places that I wouldn't necessarily think of going on my own. 

But what do we do during a pandemic, when it's impossible to meet in person? Well, we do what other groups do, we go virtual. With teleconferences. And we temporarily break the organization's rules about working onsite from direct observation. Okay, so it's not strictly "urban sketching". But it's our way of keeping our community together and staying sane during crazy times.

So, what can you sketch online? There's a great big world out there, and the possibilities are endless. We just pick a spot somewhere and find some street views and photos to sketch from. We've "met" in Florence, Amsterdam, Las Vegas and Newport, RI, among other places. We've traveled to zoos and museums. We've kept out of trouble and had some good times. Safely. And together! Well, sort of.

For these events I've been favoring a brush pen with watercolor on hot press, which is a smooth watercolor paper. It allows me to work quickly in our limited time. My absolute favorite pen is an inexpensive Pentel pocket brush pen. It's waterproof, has a brush tip that flows oh so smoothly, and I can easily draw a thick or thin line. Just ordered one in a sepia tone. Can't wait to try it.

One of the cool things about going out painting with friends is that they take you to places you wouldn't necessarily think of going on your own. My dear friend and fellow artist Shawne Cooper loves to paint  in the East Village, so several times last summer I met up with her there. I'm fascinated by any greenery that manages to hang tough in this concrete and asphalt city. So I gravitated to the trees and flowers while Shawne painted mom and pop storefronts nearby. 

The East Village is a colorful neighborhood with quite a few community gardens. These gardens are green oases built with sweat equity out of rubble-filled empty lots. They struggle with city bureaucracy and encroaching real estate developers to remain in existence. But exist they do. So far, anyway. And their existence contributes joy, creativity and beauty to the neighborhood, making it a much more livable place. I wish we had a few community gardens in my neighborhood!

El Sol Brillante Jr Garden (above) seems to be the little brother of a larger community garden, El Sol Brillante, both on East 12th Street. Would love to paint the bigger one next summer. 

On our walk through the neighborhood I was enchanted by a sunflower beautifying the block in its elegant reach for the sun. Naturally I had to paint it. While I was working a resident came out to say hello and see what I was up to. Turns out she's one of the gardeners at El Sol Brillante! She said she decided to grow this mini garden when the tree that had been there died at the end of its natural lifespan. I was told by another neighbor that this gardener makes everything she touches magical and green. Aren't we lucky to have such beneficent wizards in the world?