Painting Lessons

Painting Lessons

Rising in the morning, I went into my studio. As I stood looking at the old painting, tears streamed down my face and memories flooded from my heart. It was not a particularly good painting because I was only ten and hadn’t been painting long. All the tools an artist needs had been given me by my grandfather. He had painted the original portrait of my mother that I had tried to paint as a child. My grandfather had taught me so very much about life and about painting. We would paint together, our easels side by side. If I wanted a certain colour, grandfather would teach me how to mix up colours to find the shade I wanted. He showed me how to create light, texture and distance. It was always a joy to be with him in his studio overlooking the water. Grandmother brought us lunch and we would sit outside on the patio. There were times when my parents wondered whose house I really lived in. The tears streaming down my face were not only tears of sadness. They were tears of sadness sparkled with the gold of these wonderful memories. Just before lunch, my twelve year old grand daughter would be here. I had her easel set up beside mine and we would be overlooking the sparkling blue water. Her grandpa told me he would have a lunch of tomato sandwiches, lemonade and watermelon for us before we started painting our own memories.

“All you need to paint is a few tools, 

a little instruction, and a vision in your mind.”

~ Bob Ross