The Many Faces of Paint
My experience with the worlds of brush
and ink, watercolor, tempera, acrylic, and oil painting was an inefficacious
amalgam of short-lived experimental episodes. Here are the results.
My peregrination began with brush and ink. Brush
and ink consisted of a very simple congeries of tools. Primarily brush, ink, and
water. Such an assortment seemed to yield monotonous results originally, but
soon stemmed alternate paths of utility. Applying water to the paper before
painting with the ink, for instance, created an interesting effect reminiscent
of the tie dye genre. My favorite diversions were probably brush and ink
creations, as such art didn't require the cumbersome predicament of choosing
and mixing colors.
next medium was that of watercolors. The medium was simplistic in nature
compared to what would follow, but nevertheless proved a challenge what with
it's multiplicity of colors, shades, water stains, and especially the practical
impossibility of obtaining a significantly dark stain on the paper. Presented
with such a relatively complex task, I made a calculated decision to sacrifice
some decorum by painting almost excessively light pictures. Although this
compromised their coherence when viewed from a distance, I was able to focus
more on the soul of the picture itself without being plagued by the water stains
that would afflict a multi-layered painting.
a short sempiternity in watercolors, the class moved on to the intriguing
tempera and acrylic mediums. In my own account, tempera and acrylic are
practicably interchangeable agents. Much thicker than watercolors, and
consequently darker, I was moved to harmlessly, yet unnecessarily apply water
to the paint. In this way, I was able to familiarize myself with the substance
at my own pace. After a short interval of post-watercolor withdrawal, I was
able to entirely relinquish my need for water as a thinning agent, resulting in
one of the pieces I presented for the art show: Incarnadine.
terminal medium was none other than that of the oil paints. By far the most
mephitic of the paints we experienced, it was nonetheless relatively facile to
pick up after my experience with acrylics. What was less pragmatic was the
ordeal of hand-making a canvas on which to use the oil paints. After a few
days of hebetudinous wood-working, however, I was prepared to begin work with
first struck me as I spread a sizable clump of the paint on my canvas was its
almost obscenely viscous nature. A single stroke had covered little more than a
square inch of space, and I had much more to cover in a short amount of time.
Of course, the residue that remained on the brush after the initial palpation
was good for tracing out a light, smoky trail of color, but nothing close to
the desired effect I had formerly imagined. I would need either a lot of paint,
or a thinning substance. Water being of little avail, I quickly turned with
some interest to the provided linseed oil, and found it a rather effective
remedy to my dilemma.
my experiences with painting can be positively described as illuminating. Over
the last semester, I have incrementally increased my knowledge of paint,
painting styles, and techniques associated with preparing paints and the
canvas, which is the best I could have rationally hoped for, given my
unostentatious predisposition for the process itself.