I should reiterate here that my artistic training is virtually nil. I am self-taught in everything I do. I have read books, of course, but that's really no substitute. Thus, this is quite the learning experience for me.
So for my first project to kick things off, I decided it would be be st to get right out of my comfort zone. I don't want to be the kind of person who spends his life entirely in comfort.
So for my first project to kick things off, I decided it would be be st to get right out of my comfort zone. I don't want to be the kind of person who spends his life entirely in comfort.
Here is the underdrawing for my first ever acrylic landscape painting.
Mostly, what I do is watercolours, when on holiday, and plenty of graphite drawing around the house so acrylics are a big departure from the norm for me. I've had the set for a while now, and have never really managed to do anything worthwhile with them. Thus, I determined myself to do so. .
The story behind this painting goes like this;
My partner and I were walking along in some pretty fields near a canal in Lanarkshire one day, just taking the dog for a stroll. It was a warm sunny day, maybe about 19 degrees centigrade, and there was just a little bit of wind stirring some long end-of-summer grass. It was about two in the afternoon, when we abruptly felt the temperature drop and the light shifted. I was wrapped up in thoughts, not particularly noticing the surroundings, when my parnter took my elbow and she turned me around.
It looked like the clouds of frickin' Mordor were looming over the horizon hills, sunlight blasting out from behind them. It was golden, glorious sunshine, and the cloud was so ridiculously thick and dark. I wondered how anything that vast and menacing could possibly have sneaked up on us. Even the dog seemed to notice, and became apprehensive.
I took a picture with my trusty sidekick, and we beat a hasty retreat.
I have never seen the like of the rain that followed, and I live in the West of Scotland.
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| This is the charcoal underdrawing on a 12x14" gesso board from Windson and Newton |
My partner and I were walking along in some pretty fields near a canal in Lanarkshire one day, just taking the dog for a stroll. It was a warm sunny day, maybe about 19 degrees centigrade, and there was just a little bit of wind stirring some long end-of-summer grass. It was about two in the afternoon, when we abruptly felt the temperature drop and the light shifted. I was wrapped up in thoughts, not particularly noticing the surroundings, when my parnter took my elbow and she turned me around.
It looked like the clouds of frickin' Mordor were looming over the horizon hills, sunlight blasting out from behind them. It was golden, glorious sunshine, and the cloud was so ridiculously thick and dark. I wondered how anything that vast and menacing could possibly have sneaked up on us. Even the dog seemed to notice, and became apprehensive.
I took a picture with my trusty sidekick, and we beat a hasty retreat.
I have never seen the like of the rain that followed, and I live in the West of Scotland.
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