Duck pond

Having finished my dragonfly painting when the pond is stagnant, I couldn't help but remanence the days when the pond was full and beautiful.  I am talking about late spring, when flowers are in bloom and the geese welcome their new family and the pond is filled with runoffs from the spring rain.  

So instead of ruminating whether the glass is half full or half empty as I alluded with my dragonfly painting, why don't I attempt at something that is definitely a full glass.

The reflections of the yellow water iris and red rhododendron in the pond, interrupted by ducks lazily peddling is what I am going to attempt to paint.

For me, the challenge is to bring about the motion of the water; to bring about the transitory and ever evolving reflections.  They seem to be dancing around all the time, yet being stationary, in the sense that their position in the water never change.  So how does one portray a dancer who dances in place?

I definitely do not possess the expertise to answer that question, nor do I own the skills to depict that.  To me that's almost like asking me what is love, what is happiness.  All I know is that I just want to pick up my brush and strike while the iron is hot.  While I am still feeling it.

I want the ripples in the water to be the stage and ducks as prop.  I have an idea of how and where I want my ducks so I just pencil in their cutouts and wrote in the feathers.

The water immediately next to the fowls is relatively flat, showing only a semblance of ripples, so it is  easy to insert the palette denoting the sky, the water and the vegetation along the banks of the pond.

As I continue to build the stage with brushstrokes of concentric circles the brownish duck at the bottom gets drown out by all the vibrant colors.  A touch up with titanium white on the feathers gives that duck a little more presence.

I am not too concerned about my brushstrokes.  You can say that I am out of control; allowing my

feelings to guide me and pray that I've developed an adequate brushstroke over the years; even while I am not paying attention.  At the same time I am well aware that my Xuan paper reveals a very saturated look while wet, so I've learned to ignore that seemingly awkward appearance. 

The painting is making more sense now that the sky is painted in.

Finally the painting has dried, my duck painting!  The good old days!