There is no intention or idea I could have had.
I started with the second 4x5" half of Day 4's 5x8. It had a too-strong yellow scribble going right through the heart of it which I'd intensified (polite word) with the impulsive addition yesterday of puffy black fabric ink scribbles. It was beyond my conscious imagination what I could do to salvage the piece.
But, what the heck, it's just paint and paper, and only a tiny bit of paper at that. The painting was already in a state of ruin. Nothing to lose.
Many crazy steps along the way.
• creating some really cool misty softnesses with a pad designed for staining wood decks—a pad Dave gave me for Christmas for my art, something I would never have thought to purchase on my own; and
• using my historically unreliable fine-line ink applicator to add some black lines only to have it leak from the bottom edge of the cap and drop big black blobs on my composition (composition!).
That exploding ink? No choice whatsoever but to be fully in the moment. I felt liquid flooding my hand, looked down to see blobs, laughed out loud, simultaneously thought If you can't lick 'em, join 'em … and flung ink off my hand all over my painting.
I love what resulted!
|West Virginia Matins|
4x5"; acrylic, ink, and oil pastel on canvas paper
cut this in half
postscript to yesterday: I softened Evening Prayer with my new wood staining pad.