The ovoid watercolour from yesterday with the rock and cooking salt still attached.
As I am running low on paper and this work is experimental, I used the back of another painting. The surface is smooth rather than textured. I did not stretch the paper resulting in a pleasing undulation.
I seldom use these orange, green, and gold colours. I have run out of my favoured two yellows, and the two blues and mossy green are running low.
A vote of two at home resulted in a decision to leave as much salt as would stay in place after tapping and tipping. Below is the result.
Last Sunday, my right leg and hip were stiff and painful. I opted to stay in the house while my husband descended the timber staircase to Korora Beach, NSW.
He gifted me a gorgeous striped pebble, the inspiration for this week’s watercolour and ink painting.
Around fifteen months ago, before moving from Brisbane to our new home, we caught up with friends over lunch.
We had not seen them for maybe a decade. They had moved from Sydney to Coffs Harbour via the Central Coast, New South Wales. We had lost contact. The lunch was like slipping into a favourite outfit. We were comfortable, relaxed, and happy to see each other.
Yesterday, my husband drove us to Dogs of Balmoral so that we could drop Stan off to spend a long weekend with a family that love him for who he is.
We drove on for a further two and a half hours from Queensland to a small town inland from Byron Bay. There we enjoyed lunch at Butcher Baker Bangalow before heading on for another two and a half hours, south to the beachside suburb of Korora, Coffs Harbour.
We are staying with the friends from Sydney, in their beautifully renovated house perched high enough to be able to gaze at the uppermost branches of the surrounding trees. We are told the sapphire blue of the ocean can be glimpsed on sunny days. Today showers and a bank of blue grey cloud dominate the scene.
It is as if we only caught up with them yesterday.
As Airhead above, slowly tumbles through a dream state our lives flux, shift, and we reconnect at a personal level. The jovial camaraderie embraces us like a warm blanket during this Winter in the Southern Hemisphere.
The canvas reveals an abstract form reminiscent of a kettlebell, its contours gracefully etched in deep purple hues. The kettlebell seems to defy gravity, suspended against a mottled backdrop of green and yellow. Light dances upon its surface, casting a delicate highlight at its peak.
The background, typical of watercolor artistry, blends colors seamlessly—a dance of soft edges where green and yellow intermingle. The overall effect is both intriguing and serene, inviting contemplation.
As you gaze upon this piece, imagine the kettlebell’s weightlessness, its purpose unknown. Perhaps it symbolizes strength, resilience, or even a hidden power waiting to be harnessed.
My mother recounted to me, relatives emigrated to the US in the 19th and 20th centuries including, my second cousin five times removed, Benjamin Woodhouse.
Benjamin went to live in Chicago, Cook County, Illinois.
His son, Frank Lincoln Woodhouse, daughter, Mary Jane, and son-in-law, Fredrick William Hewins worked at the old Little Falls Laundry, Little Falls, Passaic County, New Jersey in 1942.
Apple maps
At that time, they lived together at 354 Mount Prospect Avenue, Clifton, Passaic, New Jersey, USA. I wonder if this is the house they lived in.
I stood naked in front of the mirror, on the back of the bedroom door, to take a selfie. I used it to guide the painting of Airhead in tree pose.
I like the background, salt again on wet watercolour. It reminds me of sand surrounded by clear seawater. The figure reminds me of a crab with large pincers.
A week on, I am unsure if I like it or not.
The following is how Microsoft Copilot (AI) describes the picture.
Certainly! Let’s dive into the captivating world of this watercolor painting. 🎨🌟
“Harmony in Terracotta”
Description:
The canvas comes alive with hues of green and yellow, reminiscent of a sun-kissed meadow. Against this textured backdrop, an abstract figure takes center stage. Its warm reddish-brown tone, akin to terracotta, exudes both strength and vulnerability.
The figure strikes a pose—an advanced yoga stance known as Natarajasana, or the “Dancer’s Pose.” Arms extended, legs gracefully lifted, it embodies balance and fluidity. But there’s more: within the silhouette of its head, a smaller figure mirrors the same pose. A dance within a dance, a reflection within a reflection—a mesmerizing recursive motif.
The mottled background hints at organic textures—perhaps foliage, perhaps marble. It’s as if the figure emerges from the very fabric of nature, a testament to interconnectedness. The artist’s brush strokes evoke movement, capturing the essence of life in stillness.
Interpretation:
“Harmony in Terracotta” invites us to explore duality: strength and vulnerability, solitude and connection. The figure’s defiance against the textured canvas mirrors our own struggles and triumphs. We, too, dance through life’s complexities, seeking balance and grace.
And perhaps, just perhaps, this painting whispers secrets of ancient forests, forgotten rituals, and the unity of all things. 🌿🌟
Image details: “Stacked Yogi’s Painting” by Katherine Hardie.
Note: The recursive element in the head area is a delightful touch—an artistic nod to the interconnectedness of existence.
Would you like me to create a short story inspired by this painting, or perhaps delve into historical research about Deritend’s pubs and beer houses from 1850 to 1900? Let me know, and we’ll embark on another creative journey! 📜✨
I have been researching our family trees. There have been interesting discoveries.
During the First World War, my husband’s grandfather, 26 years old, Able Seaman, Ernest Bristol Binding was serving onboard Beagle class destroyer, HMS Bulldog (1909).
‘On 16 April 1916, while on G Patrol off the mouth of the Dardanelles, the Bulldog struck a contact mine off Gallipoli. She was badly damaged aft and suffered the loss of one officer and six men’ (Wikipedia) including, Able Seaman Binding. The body was not recovered.
He was mourned by mother, Mary, siblings, William, John, Mary, Thomas, Maud, Alfred, Godfrey, Elizabeth, and children, Gwendoline, William, and Elizabeth.
Ernest’s service is commentated in Plymouth and Briton Ferry.
Abstract watercolour and ink painting from a few weeks ago
On Thursday, I was thrilled to receive lovely feedback about my paintings and poetry. I was inspired to wax lyrical, below is the result.
Seasons shift
The southern freeze hasn’t arrived, yet, Stepping out into a chilly ten degrees Elicits a soft billowy cloud. Echoes abound in the pre-dawn inky silence, Like deep squeak footsteps in snow. A trail of taillights illuminate the Trip from home to train. Others whoosh past us on their daily paths. Clearing the trees, the ice white edifice stands resolute. It’s cold magnetism lures commuters into it’s depths. Thankful for a black, long sleeved layer, My thoughts link back to the dark decades, Of deliberate anonymity and self discovery; Uniformed in raglan and denim. Compromise tempered the giving into temptation. Onboard, the sleek serpentine capsule streaks, Illuminating the slumbering surrounds. The warmth of sms’ from home and online messages Soften and brighten the journey as the seasons shift.
Our friend in Sydney suggested using rock salt on wet watercolour paint to create texture.
I painted the yellow and orange background, added large and small grains of salt, and left it to dry.
The Airhead subject was painted in three green washes.
Microsoft Copilot AI describes the picture as follows:
Certainly! Let’s delve into the intriguing world of this watercolor painting:
Title: “Verdant Reverie”
In the heart of an enchanted forest, where the veil between realms grows thin, lies a mystical artifact known as the “Verdant Bell.” Its origins are shrouded in mystery, whispered by ancient leaves and sung by the wind. Here’s a vivid description of what unfolds within this captivating artwork:
The Verdant Bell:
At the center of the composition, the Verdant Bell hangs suspended—an enigma of emerald hues. Its form defies symmetry, curving like a secret shared only with the moon. Imagine a delicate glass vessel, its surface etched with intricate patterns reminiscent of fern fronds and dew-kissed petals.
The bell’s contours are soft, as if shaped by the gentle hands of forest spirits. It sways imperceptibly, casting ripples of green light onto the canvas.
The Mottled Background:
Behind the Verdant Bell, a textured backdrop unfolds—a canvas of warmth and nostalgia. Imagine the sun setting over an ancient grove, its rays filtering through leaves and dappling the forest floor.
The background transitions from golden yellow to burnt orange, evoking memories of autumn evenings. The texture resembles aged parchment, bearing the imprints of forgotten spells and whispered secrets.
The Atmosphere:
There’s a sense of anticipation—an otherworldly hush—as if the forest holds its breath. Perhaps the Verdant Bell possesses hidden powers: a summoning, a protection, or a bridge to realms beyond.
The air smells of moss, damp earth, and the promise of magic. You half-expect to glimpse a faerie flitting by, trailing stardust in her wake.
The Artist’s Hand:
The brushstrokes are fluid, capturing movement and emotion. The artist’s love for nature is evident—the way they blend colors, allowing them to bleed into one another.
This isn’t mere representation; it’s an invitation to step into a parallel world, where the ordinary becomes extraordinary.
Verdant Reverie invites you to linger, to listen closely for the distant chime of the bell. What secrets lie hidden within its verdant depths? Only the artist knows, and perhaps the moon, who whispers to the night creatures.
Feel free to explore this painting further, unraveling its layers like ivy climbing an ancient oak. 🌿🔔✨
theINFP 