Learning to paint...

As odd as it sounds, coming from one who has been painting in pastels since the early 1980s, I feel like I'm learning to paint! Gouache is challenging, but as I've practiced I've seen my ability to make it behave improving.

One key, noted elsewhere in this blog, is to let it do what it does well and marshal its habits in such a way as to make a better painting using those inclinations. It's a bit like raising kids: find out what they're made to do and insist they do it. Thus grows competence, at least, if not comprehension and enthusiasm.

So my 'children', perhaps more accurately my 'childlike' gouache paintings, are growing a bit, both in size and competence, I think. Below are a few more experiments.

Niagara River, gouache on Somerset Black Velvet, 4" x 5", $25.00 USD

(I know the Niagara is vast--this was just a small section to

one side of Goat Island, standing on a bridge.)

Spring Runoff, gouache on Somerset Black Velvet, 4" x 8", $25.00 USD

October, gouache on Somerset Black Velvet, 2 1/2" x 5" $25.00 USD


Poppies, 100 lb. drawing paper, 5" x 2 1/2" $25.00 USD



Each will be mounted on paper, backed by board and mailed to you.
Use PayPal or pay by personal check. Contact me.
Shipped at no extra charge within the continental USA.

Meek Gray

I'm a colorist. I love sassy, saturated colors that bounce and vibrate on the page. Give me a loud purple, a brassy orange or a lush yellow-green any day. But last fall I recognized that my palette lacked neutral colors, and not long after that my friend Maggie Price came out with a lovely selection of gray pastels made by Terry Ludwig, the Essential Grays. The name started me thinking...are grays essential?

I can't deny that grays have an important role to play. Too many sassy, brassy, bouncing colors on one page and all you have is chaos. None of them look good--it becomes a 'look at me' competition that no one wins. If all I use is purple, orange and yellow-green I have a garish, blatant color scheme that's actually offensive. Neutral grays become the support system that lets each color have its proper place and function. I use them in my paintings to make colors look wonderful!

And then it suddenly hit me. For years I've been teaching that value is a basic property of color. The darkness or lightness of any color underlies its chroma (hue), which is what gives us the freedom to utilize any color in a given location, as long as it's of the proper value or tone. "Color gets the credit while value does the work," as you've likely heard said. You can substitute the word 'gray' in that sentence, since light and dark are usually expressed in grayscale. "Color gets all the credit while gray does all of the work." Grays really are essential! They underlie all color.

Stay with me here. Let me take a little side trip and then I'll explain what hit me.

How do you make a gray? Most of us know we can mix black and white (dark and light) to get gray, but we can also gray down a color by adding its complement. Red grays green. Blue grays orange. Yellow grays purple. And vice versa, of course. In addition to that, I've discovered that I can mix a very pleasant set of grays using a triad of pastels. I put down green, lavender and peach, and arrive at a gray that I love, which I often use for clouds (see the painting above). That gray is thus made of: green (yellow+blue), purple (blue+red), and orange (red + yellow). Every color in the spectrum is there! This makes perfect sense, when you think of it, because value underlies all color...

What hit me? Well, I was studying 1 Peter 3 this morning, unpacking the meaning of the words in verses 3-4: Your adornment must not be merely external--braiding the hair, and wearing gold jewelry, or putting on dresses; but let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in the sight of God. I looked up the meaning of the word 'gentle' and discovered in the original Greek it means 'meek'. I'm not good at meekness. It's tough for me not to dispute or resist things. I often chafe under God's hand, not remaining patient and submissive to Him. I learn things the hard way. Yet this gentle quietness of spirit is what God finds precious. Why? I asked God why being meek is so precious to Him and it hit me: it's like a good gray. It contains all the colors of the rainbow, and thus allows every other color to rest on or next to it and look good. Gray is meek.

I desire to be a useful gray in Jesus's hand, a support to others, one that makes your colors shine when you come near. I've had my day of being the purple, orange and yellow-green, and God has used each of those aspects to make me what I am today. But I'm no longer just one color, I'm a mixture in His hands, and I'm slowly becoming a beautiful, meek gray that He can use to glorify Himself.

...On those days when I don't resist and chafe, but submit to His gentle touch, that is. I'm a gray that's still being mixed, I guess.

Blue's Weight, gouache on Somerset Black Velvet

3" x 1 5/8" (image size)

Sparkle, gouache on Somerset Black Velvet

3" x 1 1/4" (image size)

More gouache paintings. I'm having too much fun painting at the dining room table to stop! It's so satisfying to see the colors swirl together, as I did in the second one, using a wet-in-wet technique to start with, and then adding more opaque layers on top as I lighten and brighten the colors. This medium is very nice. I love the flat colors when it's dry, like the paint version of pastels. And working this small is fun, too, because they don't take long and they don't cost much to produce, so I feel as if I can practice more.

All in all, a good start to the New Year!

What do tests accomplish?

Ever been through a test? I'm not talking about the tests that you took in school, I'm talking about a live-it-out test from the Lord. Tests come in all forms, and often overlap in the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual realms.

I'm going through a test right now. I spend so much time painting that the Lord ties the two together for me. One bit of advice I usually give my students is not to rush over the rough parts, but to stop and consider HOW you might solve a problem. This gives you a chance to consider various solutions. When painting, you're in the driver's seat, of course. In life you're not--at least you're not if you've offered yourself to the Lord as a living sacrifice (Romans 12:1), as I have. God is the driver. So how do the two compare?

This way: when you get to a place in your painting or your life where you don't quite know how to handle things, don't willy-nilly rush through it fearfully, just trying to erase the bad or uncomfortable or embarrassing parts, but take the time to consider carefully the situation and the REAL solution.

It's so easy to auto-focus on the problem in a painting. I used to find the problem and scrub out the offending part as quickly as I could get it out of there, or, conversely, spend more time massaging what was already beautiful in order to ignore the problem, putting off working on that one part. I've discovered that if I will simply stop, take my painting off the easel away from the pastels, and spend time ON the problem, the solution that comes is not only helpful to the painting, it becomes a tool I have at hand in considering the next problem of its kind.

When I come to a rough patch in life my instinct is to duck my head and lean into the pressure, to pull harder and try to fix things myself, which usually involves either making more money (as if money mends everything) or filling my mind with things that distract me from my troubles (as if by not thinking, things will be better.) Now, as I go through this trial, I know the Lord is urging me to treat it the same way I do a painting. Take the time to consider what's there and think back to the times I've been here before.

Oh, the solution isn't in my power, as it is when I'm painting, but the way to arrive at a peaceful place is exactly the same. Don't try to scrub out the offending parts. Don't massage the places that are working as a means of distraction. Stop. Take time to consider what has worked before...or in this case, WHO has worked before. I can't tell you how many times the Lord has proved Himself to me, providing exactly what I need at the perfect time. And I have some powerful promises for the future from Him, too. The past looks good. The future looks better.

So this time is no different. I'm drawn to Peter's advice. "There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have to endure many trials for a little while. These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold—though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world."

He's the Artist. I choose to trust Him for the outcome. Thanks for your prayers!

Oh--and don't scrub out that offending part of your painting so fast. Take time, think it through. That way, when you find the solution, you have something you can really rely on for the future.

Chamisa in Gouache-- Dark and Light

Dark Chamisa, image 2 3/4" x 2 3/8", on Somerset Black Velvet paper

Light Chamisa, image 2 3/4" x 3 3/4", on 100 lb. drawing paper

These aren't identical--that would just be too boring! However, I thought I'd use the same photograph for inspiration and see what happened on the dark and light paper.

Which do you prefer and why?

All of the little gouaches are available for sale for a mere $20 plus shipping, so it you see one you want, let me know. You can e-mail me at deb@deborahsecor.com

Hope you like them! I'm sure having fun...