The other day I opened my Strada easel and had quite the chuckle. I had always wondered if paint had a secret life inside the pochade box when no one is looking. Sort of like when I was a kid and wondered if the light stayed on inside the fridge.
Day after day paint piles stare longingly across the easel hoping to meet someone from across the aisle. Someday they say. Someday he’ll grab some of me and some of them and mix us into a really nice green. Or maybe a purple. You just never know.
It turned out the cerulean blue just couldn’t wait any longer and wobbled over to meet the quinacridone red. Or maybe it was enticed to come over? We’ll never know. None of the other paint piles are talking.
What I do know is they were both fresh paint piles. Which left me with a mess. If you’ve ever tried to un-mix play dough you know what I was about to experience. When life hands you lemons (and hopefully enough sugar to go with them) you make lemonade.
In this instance cerulean blue and quinacridone red make a lovely violet.
Of course, these two wayward and lovestruck paint piles decided to do this late night cavorting on the eve of my first ever wet paint competition. Luckily I caught it before getting out into the middle of the field. But still I had this huge pile of purple.
So I used it. As my college professor used to say, “You dance with who brung ya.”
Purple went everywhere I could find a shadow or a dark spot. I ended up doing two paintings that day. And I used almost all of the purple. Waste not, want not as they say.
The best part of this story is that purple is one of my favorite colors to use (ok, violet) I like to bend it warm or cool depending on the shadow/time of day. In this instance it wasn’t a huge tragedy that the cerulean went in search of a friend. I guess in a way they already knew each other.