Psychedelic tulip (I think)

I told you all about my first painting in over ten years, didn't I?

I hated it right afterwards. But I felt better about it after a while. I'd forgotten how addictive it could be.

Like writing, it satisfies my need to create, but in a completely different way. I do think I'll pick up a brush again after this.

Yesterday, as I was listening to @anarcho-andrei and at @swelker101's radio show, State of the witness, my hand drifted towards a brush again. I'm afraid I didn't participate all that much in the audience channel on discord, but they did provide me with the perfect background chatter. They occupied my mind and kept me from overthinking things as I am prone to do.
I did have to stop here and there when they had me laughing so hard I couldn't keep my hand from shaking.

I began by very lightly sketching out the basic shapes of the tulip.

It's not very clear but I sketched the lines as lightly as possible. I didn't want them to be visible when the painting was done. This means it was hard to get the camera to focus, though.

Next, i began to lightly create layers of paint.

I wanted to keep the colours of the petals from running together so I had to wait for each layer to dry before being able to continue on that one or on the petal immediately next to it. That's why I look for parts of the painting that do not touch at the edges. I can work on those while the ones I've already done are drying. It saves time and allows me to keep working.

I then got carried away and forgot to take more photos in between layers. Oops...

This is a photo of when it's almost done. The only petal I've yet to finish is the one at the top. You can see it still looks a bit flat.

And here is the finished painting.

This was done with a set of 12 watercolour markers in primary colours. I used a wet brush to dilute and fade the ink.

Ms. Vaganée, the first art teacher I ever studied under, always used to say that no medium is too menial. She would dumpster dive for useful stuff while we were out on sketching trips to the park or in Mechelen, where I went to school.

She was the coolest old lady I ever met. Last year, she was in my waiting room in radiology and although I felt bad for her being ill, she still remembered me and we had a blast catching up and reminiscing about those dumpster dives.

In honour of the lessons she instilled in me (basically eradicating all preconceived notions of what art should or shouldn't be), I think I'll stick with these primary markers for now and see how far they will take me.

Hugs

Tiny

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