Patience in Pink

Isn't it amazing how each bud 

Has it's time to bloom?  

That's patience made into something beautiful.  

The wait might seem longer

But soon, your time will come

To bloom.

Hang in there.

An inspiration post for a dear friend.

Birds of Paradise - New Work

The Making of a Painting

From top to bottom, left to right (please click photo to zoom):  

-  Value Study (HB pencil)

-  Color Study (colored pencils)

-  Color Sketch (watercolor pencils)

-  Color Sketch (watercolor pencils)

-  The Palette (new refined Holbein watercolors and pure sable brushes)

-  First Washes and Underpainting

-  Painting, Final Phase

-  Finished Painting

Birds of Paradise

Watercolor on Canvas, 16 x 20. SOLD.

To find out more about this painting, please click title above. Interested in my work? Feel free to contact me, I'd be happy to hear from you.

Thank you for appreciating my art.

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Today?

Find out more about this photo tomorrow.

Art Lesson No. 3 - Do Something Unexpected

Doing the same thing over and over again can dry up your creative juices.  

Today, why not try something you haven't done or thought of before.  Not only will it give you new perspective about your work, but you'll discover a whole new avenue towards your own ingenuity.

This is what I did.  Read on.

'Drenched Rose', ACEO.

'Drenched Rose'.  Detail.

"The last rose in my vase. 

First, I drew it with watercolor pencils, then brushed it a little bit. Lastly, with much courage, I soaked it in a basin of cold water. Yes, for two hours. 

Unconventional you'll say. But that's me. I love pushing the limits of the medium.

And creating something unique."

Pardon the little smudges around, the water did that. I call it natural artistic effect, giving it the antique, shabby-chic look.

Ready to try it?  Post comments if you have questions about this article or anything about art, I'll do my best to answer it.

Wordless Wednesday

Happy WW Everyone!

Visit the Wordless Wednesday HQ. 

A Time to Bloom - Part 2

"Time to Bloom 2"
Mixed Media on Paper, 18x24 in.
Watermark not present on actual artwork.
Click here to buy archival print, $20.

Winters passed and seasons changed
She breathed within her range
The warmer breeze of Spring
Filled her with the joy it brings

Walking calmly
She proceeded without hurry
Looking to see what blooms
Today will fill her room

Not too far
Almost torn apart
A familiar bloom
Lay completely in gloom

Trampled and wilted
Her branches almost dead
Once again her tears dropped
This time it didn't stopped

She picked her up with care
Saving her roots from the tear
Thank you for picking me up
It muttered while leaves flop

Hush my 'little bud'
Bloom again and be proud
In my garden just like in my heart
You'll always have a spot

A Time to Bloom - Part 1

"Time to Bloom 1"
Mixed Media on Paper, 18 x 24 in.
Watermark not present on actual artwork.
Click here to buy archival print, $20.

Where has she been? Looking back, she realized she is no longer her 'little bud'. She has fully blossomed, ripe for the picking.

As much as she wanted to get her for herself, she cannot. This time, she belongs to someone else. There, with him, she'll spread her own seeds and plant a garden of their own.

My time to nurture her has come to end, she said. She is yours now. Hold her gently and don't let her wither away. Her heart twitched with pain and bliss as she let her go.

You'll forever be my 'little bud', she whispered as tears dropped on her petals.

P.S. Friends, this post is a special tribute. Watch out for the second part of the story. Post your comments and let me know who you think this tribute is for.

11th Hour

Click here to buy this painting.
Acrylic on archival & acid-free heavyweight fine art paper, 2.5 x 3.5 in.
Watermark not present on original artwork, $42.

The eleventh hour describes the last moment when everything changes.

Today is Palm Sunday, I remember. Let me tell you my favorite Palm Sunday story.

"It's one of her most favorite celebration. Every year on this day, she would wake up at four o' clock in the morning. She'll rouse up her sisters from sleep and cheerfully remind them of what's ahead, church at five.

Holding hands, the three girls will tiptoe to the 'big room' to check if their Mama and Papa are awake. Whispering so as not to wake up the littlest of them all. They all fought the urge to reach out to the 'battleship' (a.k.a. bed in the big room) and squeeze the cheeks of the little baby sleeping next to their parents.

In between little giggles, she whispered to them 'Ma, Pa, it's time!.' Their Mama and Papa stirred to wake up and as expected they heard them say 'Shhhh, the baby is sleeping'. One by one, they stepped out and headed to their closets. All excited to pull out their Sunday dresses.

'Can you tie my hair first?' she asked the oldest. She wanted to look nice, it was her first Palm Sunday as a big sister. She couldn't wait to show her friends their new baby. And to taste the warm porridge right after church. Going to the little eatery across the church was part of their Palm Sunday tradition. The place made the best porridge (a soup made of rice, chicken and vegetables). Perfect for warming hungry little tummies on a cold morning after church.

The soup was made warmer by the love they share. Happy for the simple life they have. They have each other, their Mama and Papa would often say. That's what matters. She led saying grace on the table this time. With closed eyes and clasped hands, she said 'Thank you for our baby, my sisters, my Mama, Papa, our dogs and cats. Oh, and our little ducks and baby chicks too. Amen."

She was smiling when she opened her eyes. That was twenty four years ago. Her baby sister is all grown up. And she has a little one of her own now, her own battleship. The last Palm Sunday they were together was nine years ago. Their Papa passed away three days after, it was Wednesday of the holy week. There were only five of them that Easter. All wore white.

It was her family's eleventh hour. Grappling with grief and tears with their eyes, they made a pact to carry on the simple traditions they all cherish. In their hearts, they'll always be together, their Mama said. That's what matters, remember that."

I'll remember, I'll remember.