/

Wildflowers by the Wayside- Landscape Study Panel002

I painted this on a 5.5 × 8.5 sheet of cold press 140 lb paper. No washi tape. No frame. No “plan.” Just me trying to shove my brain into a different room for a while.

Watercolor sketch of thin green stems and scattered wildflowers in orange, yellow, purple, and pale pink on textured paper — ACFA Creative House
Watercolor sketch of slender green stems and small wildflowers in orange, yellow, purple, and pale pink, with a red circular artist stamp on textured paper — ACFA Creative House

Decision point: sometimes you just have to figure out when to stop.

I lined up my usual watercolor brushes—0, 2, 2/0, and a 10/0 tip—like little soldiers waiting for inspection. Then I grabbed my water container: a repurposed plastic food tub I rescued from my sister’s trash because it actually works. It has a divider, so I can rinse in one side and dip into clean water on the other without needing three different cups cluttering the table. Also, the fancy rinse cups cost too much for something that holds dirty water. I’m not funding that economy.

I started with the ground wash first and let it dry. The whole idea came from the wildflowers I see on the side of the road in spring and summer—those stubborn little things that thrive in the exact places nobody meant for beauty to exist.

Here’s the problem: I don’t know how to paint flowers. I’m not formally trained. I’ve watched a ton of YouTube videos from people who make it look effortless, which is a fun kind of torture when your version looks like wet confetti with commitment issues. So instead of copying the pros, I decided to start studying the real thing.

I started actually looking at the plants—colors, shapes, how everything blends, how the symmetry isn’t perfect but still works. Nature’s palette is sitting right in front of me; I just have to learn how to mix it and figure out how to make darks and lights without needing a dictionary of art terms. I hear words like “value” and my brain immediately leaves the building. All I know is: nature is the teacher, and I’m the student with a trash-salvaged water cup and a stubborn streak.

Verdict: A small, quiet study that did its real job—making my mind focus—before the painting could talk me into overworking it. It didn’t make the cut, but it did its job. I’ll probably resurrect it later, who knows—like that trash-saved water container, still earning its keep.