A couple years ago, I decided to take up watercolor painting. It was both a spur-of-the-moment decision while shopping in Hobby Lobby one day and it wasn’t. You see, I’d long had the itch to paint, but I kept ignoring it because I was a busy teacher who used any spare time I could find to work on my writing, which was and is my first love as far as my passions go.
However, on that day, I was firmly in the middle of a mid-life, existential crisis brought on by the deaths of important key people in my life who had all died at age 50 or younger. Only a few short months later, my beloved uncle Paul Filsinger would also pass away at the age of 60, adding to the major mental shift that took my life in a new, and wonderful, direction.
Thus, fixated on how life is too short and we never know when our time is up, I decided that day that I wanted to paint, so by God, I was going to paint. It didn’t matter that I’d had no training in watercolor painting or that it had been eons since I’d even had an art class — back in my junior high school days. I just wanted to paint, and I liked the look of watercolor and how its imperfection is what makes it beautiful — just like people.
I bought a small pad of watercolor paper, a couple brushes, and a tin palette of 24 paints. My first attempts were simply that — attempts. I didn’t really know what I was doing, but my daughter had taken art classes all through high school with the amazing art teacher who taught down the hall from me, so she gave me a few pointers. So did the art teacher, but I wasn’t really interested in becoming an “artist;” I just wanted to paint.
The more I painted, though, the better I got at it, and the more I came to love it. Soon, I got brave enough to share some of my work on Facebook, and I received praise. I shared more, and before I knew it, people were calling me an “artist.” It took a while, but then I started to see myself as one, too.
I applied the same logic that I’ve always used with my writing. Even before I sold any of my writings, I was still a writer. I was putting words onto paper and creating poems and stories with them, so that made me a writer even before I began sharing those creations. The same held true with my paintings. I was painting, so that made me an artist.
Most of the paintings went right into folders I keep under my painting table after they’d dried, but then I started hanging some of the better ones on my walls. Now, I’m surrounded by my art work as I write and paint.
One day, I was pondering the need to order some business cards for my writing career and new focus as an author. However, I know how quickly I lose other people’s business cards or how often I simply throw them away, so I was wondering if I should bother with the expense of creating cards. Suddenly, I had an epiphany. I’m a writer — of books. What do readers of books want? Bookmarks! Thus, I began combining my love of painting with my writing career as well as my love of reading, and I started painting bookmarks that each contain my author website on the back. They’ve been a big hit, and I enjoy knowing that my bookmarks are being used, hopefully, and not being tossed aside or easily lost.
One of my biggest fans — she’s read all my books and even beta read the one that will be coming out next — asked me to paint something for her. I was being commissioned to do a painting! I was quite shocked — while it’s one thing to consider yourself an artist, it’s a totally different thing to think of yourself as a professional, or paid, artist. Since the only thing I’m decent at, in my opinion, is landscapes, I asked her if she had a photo of one that she’d like me to try. She immediately sent me a photo that was taken on a trip to Alaska.
I did my best, and she was happy with it. I think I could probably do a bit better now, but I certainly didn’t charge her much for it — in fact, I felt like a fraud charging her anything, but she had commissioned the work, so . . . (photo below)
I’ve continued to work on my craft. My daughter has tried to convince me to use acrylics or even oils, which is her favorite paint medium, but I like watercolors. Like I said above, I enjoy their imperfection, and I like the way the paint flows. I think it’s linked to my love of the sea and to swimming — water is my favorite element, so it makes sense that I prefer watercolor paint above all others.
I continue to stick to landscapes and plants. Any attempts to paint people or animals come out looking ridiculous. I’ve gotten pretty good at painting palm trees on beaches and cacti in the desert, but I’ve started adding to my repertoire with a couple buildings.
I painted the barn for my mother from a photo I found online. She loves old barns.
In April, I was visiting my daughter, and she and I traveled to Greenville, SC, for the day. While sitting on a bench downtown to eat our gelato, I gazed across the street and liked the view I saw of a couple buildings, so I took a photo. Later, I decided to try to paint a version of that photo — sans people. I’m quite happy with how it turned out, so I framed it and hung it on my TV room wall.
Recently, my daughter was home for a visit, and we went to Ashfall Fossil Beds near Royal, NE. While there, I was struck by the view from the walkway looking away from the rhino barn, and I took a photo. I painted it shortly after and will try to sell it. If no one buys it, it will join the many other paintings on my walls.
Here are a couple other paintings I’m proud of but that are just for me:
I have far to go to ever be considered “great,” and I don’t know if I ever care to get there. I simply love to paint. It’s very relaxing, and it lets me tap further into my creative side in a truly visual way. I “paint” pictures with my words as I write, but I often see those more as moving pictures, like movies in your mind as you read because reading a book is a process that is constantly propelling you forward. Painting, however, leads to a single image; yet that image is a constant source of joy every time you look upon it. At least, that’s what I want from my paintings — I’m not into painting dark and disturbing scenes.
I love being surrounded by color. When I taught, my classroom was the most colorful in the school — my walls were covered with bright posters, papel picado was strung across the room, and I had hundreds of colorful papers flowers that my students made over the years crowning the entire room. One of the very first things I did after my ex moved out of my house was to repaint all the rooms. He had insisted on very neutral and very blah colors for the walls when we built the house. My bedroom is now a bright green, the room in which I work is a sunny yellow, my dining room is a beautiful dark blue, and my bathroom is purple. Those sunny yellow walls are covered by my paintings now, too, and their bright colors bring me joy.
When I was a kid, if you’d asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, there was a time period in which my answer was “artist,” but that eventually changed to “writer” and even “teacher” for a short span. I’ve now been all three. Writing is my passion, but watercolor painting is now a close second.
Thanks for joining me. No fiction today. Including the numerous photos took up too much space, but I hope you enjoyed them. Please share and try to encourage others to become subscribers.
Tammy Marshall