
“You’ll realize that you’ve always been able to speak a secret language, one that has no boundaries, because you have no nationality. Art is your homeland”
-Fredrick Backman, from the novel, “My Friends”
I have been speaking this summer about a restlessness I have weirdly had recently. Starting and stopping paintings. Changing mediums. Working early. Working very late. And apparently, I am not alone. I have spoken to many artists lately that have been sensing the same thing. Hard to focus. Hard to start the creation process. Maybe it’s summer? Maybe it is all the chaos in the world? And yet, there has always been a tiny voice, with much certainty, whispering, “Keep going.”
But to where? I’m still not sure, but this past weekend I got another bubble of inspiration. Watercolor paper and paints. I have been teaching watercolor to a few of my mentorship students, and I think it is whispering to me too. For the last year or so I have been thinking that I needed to find my watercolor brushes and palette in storage and immerse myself in sodden paper and blooming pigment. Clearly the opposite of my lovely dry and dusty pastels, but maybe….?
Many, many years ago I painted only in watercolor. I found a love for them in college that stuck for a while. And because I love to find the hardest thing to do, I later started creating watercolor commissions of children. I regret I only have a few decent original watercolors left from that time in my life, so I thought I’d share a few. Above is my oldest daughter playing the violin when she had orchestra class in school, and the other one below is also of her, though much younger, playing with large, adult ballet shoes when she was about 18-months old. This one is called “A Mother’s Hope” because so many of my young mom friends at the time hoped we would have a ballerina on our hands. No luck.

My son, not one to mince words, says he likes my pastel paintings better, so why am I dabbling around in other things? Trust me, I have asked myself that question too. But the voice still says, “Keep going.”
I have been painting for longer than I can remember now. My entire life. I have a sketchbook from when I was 9 years old. I don’t remember creating it. But I do know myself- when I have bounced around and tried different approaches, different subject matter and studied artists very different from myself, it somehow translates into future work. So the language I am using is not “pastel technique” or “watercolor washes” or even “painting,” rather, it is the language of art itself. The creation, frustration and completion of marks ticking across time.
And as long as I am creating, I am good. Even if it is crap. (oh, I am such a philosopher) Making time for art made me a better mother. Painting for clients made me a better artist. Painting for myself made me, well, just better…and gave me insight and refinement into that illusive artistic goal- vision.
So I just ordered an Arches watercolor block and some larger sheets for my stretcher board. I literally can not wait for them to arrive. There is a tactile joy that comes from running my hand across a 140-pound watercolor cotton surface. Happiness in dipping a clean brush into clear water and then picking up saturated pigment. It is the toughest medium. No doubt. You have control, but not really. It is watercolor after all, and it it unyielding, unforgiving and yet undeniably addictive.
I found one more image of a watercolor from that time which is below. I wanted to find others, but I don’t have images of the rest of them any more. Long story short, my ex-husband, in an act of total cruelty, turned off access to all my photos stored online. Years and years of images gone. Despite multiple court orders and asking for the last seven years, he still refuses to give me access to photos of my children when they were young, images of my paintings or of my deceased mother. Unless images were printed out and put in frames and in photobooks, I have very few photos from before 2017. And before you think that maybe I should not share this little personal tidbit, this is my truth, and it affects me, even now, like trying to find a few old photos of my work, and I am ok with anyone knowing what happened and I share it as a warning to others.
These paintings are like seeing old friends, so I guess I will have to create some new pals.
I am still on a path where I am still not sure where I am going…. but I am still in my homeland.

Beautiful pieces! I ‘m drawn to watercolor, too, and agree that it’s the toughest medium. There’s just something unique about the unpredictability of what happens when the paint hits the paper. You know, but you don’t know. Go for it—looking forward to seeing what you paint!
Lol. Me too!
You are right about watercolor being an unforgiving medium. Overworking is such a danger. I have nearly always guilty of it but now trying to be more deliberate before making each brush stroke.
(And the ex-husband –OMG. What a cruel and petty a-hole!)
Yup on both accounts!!
Wow!! These are stunning!! Not really a surprise because of your talent, but surprising. because they are so different from your oils and pastels Keep fighting for the rest and keep creating any way you wish. Your work is always amazing.
Thank you Rosemarie! Miss you!
Beautiful Christine. The act of making makes us. ♥️
Absolutely! 😊
Beautifully expressed, Christine. I relate to everything you said. I, too, was touched by the profound words about Art and Artists in Fredrik Backman’s latest novel and your forever evolving journey continues to inspire me.
Thank you. Yes, I just stumbled across the book and it really speaks about artists so beautifully.
Wow, these are beautiful! I can’t wait to see your “new” watercolors, Christine. You inspire me!
I miss the feel of a watercolor brush! 😊
They are as lovely as your pastels and I am a big fan of your pastels.
Thank you for sharing the personal tidbit – that’s tough.
🤗
I am not a philosopher either, but I can truly say I understand. (BTW-_Your artwork and attitude are amazing.) I love my soft pastel supplies. They were my lifeline from the beginning. I’m no amateur, but far from a novice. But I was beginning to feel that I was in a rut. I only just “tried” oil pastels. Now I have two loves. I always say, one is my heart, and the other is my soul. But….lately I’ve been working with standard oils. I feel that little spark deep inside of me. One I haven’t felt for a while. Such a tiny flame, but I know if I let it, that tiny flame will turn into a bonfire. So, what about my soft and oil pastels, nothing! They are patiently waiting for me to come back to my senses again. And I will. Three loves? Maybe.
Lol. When you have another child they say you don’t split your heart in two, rather you grow another heart. Maybe this applies…😄
I love to see that you’re doing watercolors. I’ve been painting in oils for several years now and wanted a change, so I picked up the watercolors, and boy, am I not in my element! What a challenge. But, after using a palette knife for a decade, I’m loving the feel of the brush in my hand and the delicacy of the watercolors. We’ll see how this goes…
Right? Im expecting to be heavy handed for a while with them.
I love that you were trying different mediums, and that you excel in all of them. You are such an inspiration.