The Storm Catchers

It started mid-day. The sea was calm, blended into the sky, the beach somewhat nondescript. Just beachy. The eye was unimpressed.

I walked away from the scene, unsatisfied. I had spent significant time on the unimpressive calmness on the watercolor paper in front of me. It needed more. But I needed to fight the urge to overwork, scruffing my paper and having mud for a focal point.

I sent out feelers to my art supporters (my daughters – my clear eyed assessors of when Mom tilts wayward). What does this need? It’s kinda bland. Maybe that’s okay – some days its good to have a calm sky that blends into the sea with a beach that is beachy. Some days we need that. It just didn’t seem that was where the sea and shore wanted to be. It wasn’t the heart of what wanted to be seen.

I thought maybe something distant on the water? Sail boats? It was a well received idea, of course – why not? A calm sea, an un-noteworthy sky. Why wouldn’t you go sailing? I would sail if I knew how. Maybe that was the key.

I returned to the painting. The sky was really bland. Not even good clouds seemed to break up the happy Caribbean blue. So I mixed a few more shades. Gently worked them to the sides – not to much. Maybe. Just hint of something on the horizon.

Then I practiced the happy little boats on scrap paper. They were very happy. They seemed to stand upright into the wind – headed home. How clever. Scrap paper is such a liar.

Brush in hand I tried to do the happy little boats in the painting. Two seemed to be sea worthy, a third (because of the rule of three there is always a third – beware any sailing trip without 3 boats) listed slightly. The more I tried to fix it, the more disproportional to the others she became, not merely listing, but dangerously close to full operatic Poseidon roll. It clearly needed to be swallowed by waves – quickly. I tried to place a tiny sail to the left to distract, but it only seemed focus more on the slipping ship. The dark spot on the horizon. Poseidon revisited. It had to go.

Watercolor is an unforgiving medium for an impatient painter. What is laid down can rarely be fully taken back up. There are no paint overs. Water is both the friend and the enemy. An apt medium for one who wants to be a pirate. I used all my self-taught YouTube tricks. Both the ocean and the sky became darker to disguise the imperfection of a “sunken” sail boat. The shift from bland to warning was stark. Clearly time for the boats to get to ashore was running out.

Night (an ultramarine blue with grey and crimson blend) was approaching. The rest of the sky was threatening. I worried for my little sailing companions. Why were they out there? Why were they not ashore with drink in hand telling outrageous stories? I gave them another escort (one more boat – strength in numbers), but did not turn them from the storm. What if that is why they were there? Chasing it, seeking the wind, daring the sea? Small boats on the horizon with cunning captains and fearless crews, knowing exactly what they wanted – the chase. Perhaps to catch.

I put the brush down. The mid-day serenity had blended and shaded itself into an encroaching night, harms way in the distance. But I knew the sails would reach port, would be okay, better for the thrill of the chase. Tomorrow was another day. A different adventure. And I knew they would be willing to sail again. As would I – brush in hand. More dangerous than the storm and relentless.