So, today it was acrylics on paper. The paper I was using was a very poor quality print of this Monet seascape. Almost as bad as this digital image. lol
I finally succeeded in creating something that resembled waves and water by using his work as a guide. I guess that's why art students spend time copying the great masters. It was fun and I'm happy.
While I was splotching away I took a look at my poor sad excuse for a brush. It's not a "good" brush. If I want to try new things that might ruin one of my "good" brushes it's the go to brush. The result is the "good" brushes are in perfect condition. Some aren't even out of the little plastic sleeves they came in but old faithful just looks worse every day. I guess maybe it will fall apart but I wonder; it's been around since high school. I'm guessing it's probably my third brush. Which would mean I bought it in about 1983. Impossible to believe!
I found this Picasso quote today while looking for something to do with "scraps of life."
The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider's web.
I suppose that would make my brush a wand of sorts which might explain my inability to use another brush.
"... The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter. It's not always clear why." ~ J.K. Rowling 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone'
It's more likely that I have become used to painting with beat up bristles.