Is this a cop-out

The water in my astrological water sign is having a herculean tidal pull on me.  I just can't get the thoughts of water out of my mind.  Something compels me to keep using water as a subject matter for my paintings.

When I started out to paint my algae in the pond work last November I was just toying with alum solution.  I tried to depict the messy blobs of algae with a certain fanfare.  Then I graduated to painting Rusalka, using water as my stage.  For my "tedious project" I was experimenting with my interpretation of the Gongbi style painting.

I am running the risk of being disrespectful to all the Gongbi artists out there.  Here I absolutely need to make a nota bene point, that I know little about the Gongbi discipline.  How dare I pass my work as a Gongbi painting.

By definition, Gongbi style painting demands finesse and patience; qualities that are sorely missing from moi.  Perhaps I can substantiate that statement by showing part of a painting from my friend, who happens to be a skilled Gongbi painter.

I implore you to examine the quality of the lines, the brushstrokes and how smoothly the colors are blended together.  That's Gongbi painting!

Mine is Gongbi-esque at best.  I do not have the patience to study Gongbi style painting properly.  It is always too "tedious" for me.

So what is percolating in my head now is another Gongbi-esque attempt in painting water.  I am starting with the multitude of forms and reflective patches and I am outlining these areas with my brush.  Instead of writing in the fine and disciplined lines like my friend did, I shall attempt to hide my incompetency by pretending those forms and shapes are complex Chinese characters.  Thus I am practicing my calligraphy if you will.

Actually these brushstrokes remind me of Sanskrit or Hebrew alphabets.  Actually they resemble Arabic writings.  I am definitely not trying to be disrespectful to the cultures that I've mentioned above.  I know nothing about their writings or alphabets so perhaps I should not be using them as examples.  But instinctively that's what comes to mind.  I am sorry if I am offending someone.  

Employing the same rhythm and mindset I am writing more lines and forms on the other side of my paper. 

 

I am thinking about composition already.  I need to create a contrast of density.  The haves and have nots. Lets call the left side the "rich" and the right side the "poor".

I am using very light ink for my brushstrokes to write swirls to fill some of the voids.  Light ink is also used to create a contrast with some of the thick black ink-lines.  

The swirls are actually my way of doodling.  Frankly I am at an impasse in deciding what to do with the rest of my water feature.  Thus writing swirls is relaxing and non-committal.  It gives me a respite.  

When I look at the painting now I feel a certain sudden emotion, as if something had struck me.

The painting looks interesting the way it is, without all the other embellishments!  It has a simple, impressionistic, naïve feel to it.  It is in black and white, with so few, and yet so much information.  Our minds are (at least mine is) doing the work of completing this painting.

I am writing in a few more phrases towards the lower right hand corner.  I feel that the sentence from the left needs to be a bit more structured.  That little tail forms a connection with the lines in the upper right hand corner. 

The red smearing is my way of digitally trying to decide where to place my seal.

 

Like a proverbial optimist, I do live in the moment.  I am placing a 24 in x 48 in frame over it just to see what the finished product might look like.

So I started out with the intention of doing another pretend Gongbi painting of water, to writing pretend calligraphy to emulate the wavy undulations on the water surface, to stopping the painting process with the bare minimums of information.  I have escaped all the tedious work of writing in the rest of the water.  All because something feels right for me.  At this particular moment. 

Is this restraint, or a cop-out?

Painting on silk again

My last encounter of painting on silk was fraught with plenty of obstacles.  I was being stubborn and tried to use silk fabric, instead of the "silk" that are sourced from art supply stores.  I had endured a lot of problems just trying to get the silk to take on coloring.  I ended up treating the fabric with copious amount of alum solution to get the job done.

I am older and wiser now, no less adventurous though.  I decide to try for silk again, this time on the "silk" that I can buy from art supplies.  I am still not convinced that this is real silk, because the material feels like nylon stocking or some sort of polyester. Anyways, it is what it is.  

Silk or silk brocade is used quite extensively for the more formal Gongbi style of Chinese brush.  I am not a Gongbi artist per se, but I do like to give it another try, using the motif from my "mosaic" pond painting.  This is perhaps the closest thing to Gongbi-esque painting that I could muster. I really don't enjoy being a fodder for the traditional Gongbi artist, so my preemptive apologies!

I had done a template for myself when I dabbled in my attempt to create a Gongbi-like painting with ducks on a pond.  I am resorting to that template again.

To keep things fresh, I shall do my new painting in a portrait format.  I am cropping the right hand portion of the template with the ducks in it.

I don't quite like the composition of this cropping.  I feel that the right side needs to have more of something.  The original set-up looks fine with the painting in the landscape format, but somehow feels lacking in the vertical sliver.  

Thus I shall be adding in some ripples or reflections.

I am also going to approach this project in an unconventional manner.  I am going to save the line drawing step for the last.  Again, my apologies.

Traditional Gongbi painting begins with the line drawing step.  The line drawing is either a supplied template or an original drawing devised by the artist.  The so-called line drawing is actually brushstrokes of calligraphy.  It has characteristics of full, thin, press and lift associated with writing with a round brush.  The artist then meticulously brushes in the color, often times alternating between a color brush and a water brush together for even and gradual spreading of color gradients. The process is repeated a number of times until the desired saturation, blending and appearance is reached.  Alum solution is often applied between the layers of color to prevent the previous layer from smudging, causing a "dirty" appearance.  Regardless of how saturated the color is, transparency is almost always valued.  Nothing is done in haste. 

In my case I am not dealing with delicate flower petals or shades of landscape.  Mine is just a kaleidoscope of specks of colors that does not require manipulation within each speck.  A simple mosaic.  I feel that my sins can be forgiven if I just apply the color without paying too much attention to how one color blends into another.  I also feel that I have more freedom if I just "marked" the locations of color instead of filling in a space with color.  I can be a little bit "hasty".  Just a little!

I use different colors for the rings of ripples, not only to enrich the palette, but also to account for the assorted colors of the objects that are reflected on the water.

I am adding in a whole much of nondescript ripples, what I would call "noise" to fill in the right side of the painting.  The part of the painting I deemed lacking.

After all my desired features are on the paper, I now write in the line drawing.

I brush on a thin layer of alum solution to the areas that I want to "tune-up" before I add on more or a different color.  

The finished product does look regal and pompous after framing.  This is the miracle delivered by painting on antique gold silk.