By this time, I had already painted the hot air balloon,
the large, shiny green beetle,
and the lighthouse near the sea.
There was also that unfortunate page full of lemons.
and that rather cheeky looking bluebird.
Both of which are tucked into a notebook titled "Beginnings, My How They Humble Us".
And most of the afore mentioned had been done with the help of an online subscription service that would send painting supplies in the mail,
along with a link to an online tutorial.
Also...
most of the afore mentioned had ended in tears.
And it had nothing to do with the abilities of the person teaching the tutorials, or even the supplies they sent.
Rather, it had quite a bit to do with the complexity of watercolor
And even more to do with a misunderstanding on my part...
regarding the importance of technique.
Technique...hmmmm
Something I had surprisingly not considered.
But, like most of us do when we are faced with failure again and again...
I went to my room to have a good cry, turned on Netflix and decided I simply had not been gifted with the ability to "art" in any form or fashion.
I believe I also had a smallish snack of some sort...
And then I threw my back out during exercise, promised right then and there that I would never exercise again.
And began the process of lying around to recover.
And while convalescing...
An idea visited my brain....
perhaps it wasn't that I couldn't be an artist!!
perhaps I just didn't understand...
technique.
So, for the next week and a half, while reclining with a heating pad to my back,
I watched every watercolor tutorial I could find on YouTube.
And in the few moments that I could stand or walk around, I went into my art room, stood at my table and tried again.
And I'll never forget how it felt to paint my very first butterfly...
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