The white bowl, paint of sunflower yellow, little hands swirl paint brushes turning clear water yellow. From sunny hues to colors like creamy butter, children relate the colors to things found in in familiar places, their garden, their room or cupboard. Then our conversation addresses how we mindfully use the water. “Do you know what nature conservancy means” I ask them. Some raise their hands and offer their best thoughts on the subject. We share fruitful discussion related to our paintings, studio workspace, the arrangement of our palettes and the ways we might make the most of just one bowl of water; and most importantly, why we must protect our natural resources. Painting continues as we make notes of the color values, their evolution from one shade to another. Bright yellow becomes Ochre, then Naples, then early spring green.
The white sea mist billows inland. Salty clouds sweep low to the ground and tousle my hair. My eyes are closed, face tipped towards the sun which peeks through in passing intervals. I sit on a rattan chair amid grey pebbled pathways, and pristinely designed garden scapes. Ferns of that early spring green sprout from nearby palm trees. I hear a thump, I turn to look. A lizard of the same green jumped from the palm’s shade. A water spigot leans out from a white washed wall. Its green patina reflects the emerald shoreline seen in the near distance. A gentle drip yields melodic notes while small finches drink morning rain from the gutter. When clouds part the sky reveals an abyss painted in pale cerulean and smalt blue. I meditate in the stillness, bathe in sunlight, take a walk, take a picture or three and consider what paintings of this might mean.