Small Start

"Great oaks from tiny acorns grow"
                                                                                                       --American Proverb

I almost missed seeing this little guy when I was on my walk today.  But Dasher the Dog decided it was time to stop to sniff and snack on a few acorns. I rescued this one and put it in my pocket.  I thought he'd be the perfect model for my daily painting.

1.  I lightly sketch the acorn on a 7 1/2 x 10 1/2 piece of watercolor paper.
2.  I used wet-on-wet underpainting colors of yellow for the acorn and blue for the cap.  I completely dried the paint with a hair dryer.
3.  I added another layer of color using the wet-on-wet 
technique.  I used green for the acorn and brown on the cap (not pictured - guess I was too busy painting to stop and snap.) DRY
4.  I painted another layer of color onto the acorn and cap.  This time I only wet the paper in some areas and dropped colors in to create some textures and lines.  Remember the paint will only move where the paper is already wet.

 5.  With a dry brush and a mixture of blue and brown paint I created texture on the cap.

6.  I used a detail brush to add some sharp lines to some of the edges.




7.  I then painted the background using red, yellow and a little blue for a shadow.

Small Start                          7 1/2 x 10 1/2
Watercolor on Paper

Acorns

The ancient oak has again

birthed a shower of acorns

in the expectation that

one or two of them

will find fertile soil

will plant themselves, grow

become the next generation

of oaks. This is the Way.

One generation, as part of its

process, sows seed

continuity confirmed.

The poet too reaches into his roots

scatters words and thoughts

in the expectation

that one or two

will imbed themselves

in the rich humus

of a hearer's heart

grow there to weave a chain

winding backward and forward

through chapter and verse

of the human story.

Listen carefully then, for you

may be the one,

propelling the poem

singing the song

in an entirely different key

feeding, with your fallen acorns

squirrels and chipmunks and souls.

a poem by Lois Read