Every time I visit my parent's house, I am sent home with some random item (or five). The other day I was helping my mom arrange the seemingly endless boxes of art supplies she has sitting in her basement, and ended up leaving with two small trays of watercolors, which, I'm guessing have been down there for at least 15 years, probably longer. I think I may even own watercolors already, but the fact that these sat on my coffee table staring at me for at least a week resulted in my eventual experimentation with them.
I've always wanted to learn to paint, but I have yet to get around to doing much about it. And if I were going to learn, watercolors would have been my last choice. They've always struck me as fairly boring, since the only pictures you ever see with them are streams and water mills and fields of flowers.
...Actually, that's not true.
My wizard made me a mix cd last year when I came to visit, with a rad watercolor cover of a shark surrounded in the ghosts from Pac Man. [Inside joke...we're dumb.] But that was the first time I ever thought of them as anything other than old lady-ish.
The last time I was at my parent's house, I was picking through a copy of Artist's Magazine that my mom had lying around. In it, was an article about a watercolor artist named Ali Cavanaugh who I've fallen head, toes, and tea-kettle over. The magazine ended up going home with me, so I've been pouring over the pictures of her watercolors every morning at breakfast.
No drab puddles on wrinkled paper, just vibrant colors and silly socks, fantastic enough to inspire my doodlings for the foreseeable future.
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