I love the watercolor medium. I have always loved it. I love its unpredictability. I love its free spirit. I love its depth. I love its challenge.
But there is something deeper that draws me in. Watercolor is intense, unpredictable and capable of making a horrific mess on multiple levels, but it can also take something ugly and make it beautiful just by way of its expression. Kind of like life. Kind of like art.
Life can be messy. Life can be boring. Art is a lense by which we view it. Art can see truths that lie beneath reality. Art can see redemption.
I drive by open fields every day. I see hay bales and neglected trees by the hundreds every week. The sunlight is rarely doing the fabulous things one often sees in paintings. Mostly, it is ordinary and boring – or is it? I am a mother in the “pitter patter” years where little feet require most of my time and energy. Most days consist of dressing and undressing little arms and legs, cleaning up messes, playing blocks and cars, driving to various locations just for something to do out of the heat – and doing it all on repeat. Mostly, it is ordinary and boring – or is it?
No. It is precious.
So a painting of hay bales on a dull and lifeless day becomes a challenge – a challenge to see wonder, life, hope and beauty in a setting with no immediate interest, much repetition, and limited colors and contrast. Each layer builds on the last, most of them are themselves mundane and lifeless, but as a whole they deepen the humdrum. They find value. Quietly. Infinitely.
And so the challenge becomes a commitment. In art. In life. To find what is worthy. And to rest there.
