30 Paintings in 30 Days - Day 27

"Tall Ships" - experimental studio play.  Watercolor and watercolor collage on paper.

Buttercup: Oh, Westley, will you ever forgive me?
Westley: What hideous sin have you committed lately? Buttercup: I got married. I didn't want to. It all happened so fast.
Westley: Never happened.
Buttercup: What?
Westley: Never happened.
Buttercup: But it did. I was there. This old man said "man and wife"
Westley: Did you say "I do"?
Buttercup: Uh, no. We sort of skipped that part.
Westley: Then you're not married. If you didn't say it, you didn't do it. Wouldn't you agree, Your Highness?
                  from The Princess Bride

Oooooh we are headed for a happy ending, as Buttercup's marriage to the evil Humperdinck is undone with Westley's unfailing logic.  And we are also barreling into the last few days of this 30 day painting challenge.   

This piece was unintended.  It began as a dark watercolor painting with doodled flowers.  I decided to cut out the flowers and collage them into another piece, then saw the interesting shapes left behind once the flowers were removed.  So, another challenge!  What could I make from the remaining shapes?  And then there were tall ships...these were collaged onto watercolor paper with gel medium.  Added sky and sea with more watercolor and the mast lines with watercolor pencil.  I'm still pondering this one as maybe the basis for a larger collage-inspired piece a la Nancy Frost Begin.  But for now, I will imagine the Dread Pirate Roberts setting sail for new adventures on paper cutout ships.

There are some interesting things happening in my studio, as almost ALWAYS happens at the end of 30 in 30.  My critic brain is exhausted, and thus my creative brain feels unfettered.  Which brings me back to Mark Nepo in The One Life We're Given.  He describes how we make our way, how we find each other - in this case, through exhaustion.  He was inspired by animals and birds taking refuge on a large rock surrounded by rough seas..."leaning into each other, lying on each other, finding this rock-oasis of wind and sun; too tired once on the rock to fight or be territorial, each having been wrung out by the pounding of the wet hours."    And so I find myself, taking refuge on a rock, inner critic, naysayer, bully, whiny baby and fiercely creative artist leaning into each other, too tired to fight.  It is here, in the "pounding of the wet hours", where anything is possible.