Details.... always details...

Any cascade picture is a lesson in perseverance. They take a lot out of me in various ways. I don't enjoy some of what goes into making these pictures, but there are things about them that compensate for the downside and allow me to justify continuing work on them. Some of those things are the small details that emerge. Even long after the picture is done, I find myself searching out those little things and I have a sense of re-living the moment it was made.

Here are three detail shots from the pinwheel cascade picture. The last one is the one that sort of startled me, because I never actually noticed it until after the picture was complete. I don't know how that could be, but once I saw it it became like a magnet, and now whenever I look at the picture it's the first thing I look for.

 

These are probably showing up on your monitor much larger than they are in the actual picture. (I'm assuming you might be looking at this on a laptop or desktop computer, rather than your phone.)

[Edit after posting: It occurred to me that these pictures illustrate the value of using watercolors that have high solids contents. Some watercolors are made with organic dyes, rather than with minerals. I think - but I'm not sure - the ones called "quinacridones" are examples of colors that rely less on solids than on organic pigments. The non-solids watercolors are the ones that typically are "staining." I have virtually no use for them, no matter how pretty the colors might be. The photos I've posted here that show closeup views should give you a good idea of how the solids more or less reside on the surface of the paper, rather than absorbing into the cotton fibers. I think that's why, when you view an extremely close or blown-up photo, you can almost imagine that there are shadows cast by the minerals. If I'm not mistaken, watercolors that "granulate" are typically ones with high solids / mineral contents.]

[Another aside: I haven't bought watercolors from Daniel Smith in quite a while. I was on their web site yesterday and was shocked at the prices. It looks like they've raised prices at least 20% in the past year. Good thing I have plenty to get me through the next six months or so. Too bad that guy Bruce stopped updating his Handprint web site. I'd love to know if there are any new watercolors worth trying that might have properties like the ones from Daniel Smith. I would love to try Kremer's watercolors, but their color selection is very small and their prices are prohibitive. Still, they have a couple of neutrals I'm thinking of trying, even if I'm not a fan of pan watercolors.]

Now, here are detail shots from the canted cascade I'm still working on. These are areas of the picture that I always end up staring at and wishing I could make tons of forms like the ones in these photos.

 

The sense of depth in this one is wonderful.

 

I've added a bit to this area since taking this photo. The thing in the upper right is really cool now. I also like the dark form next to the gray thing on the left.[Edit 11-13-14: In case you're wondering, this closeup view is of a section that's in the upper right corner of the finished picture.]

 

This is the most confusing thing in the whole picture. If you stare at the large form in the upper left, it seems to alternate between being a flat surface and one that is curved. Tilt your head to the right when looking at it and you might see what I mean. [Edit 11-13-14: There's at least one other form in the finished picture that does the same thing, but now I have no idea where it is. I was looking at it this morning and noticed it, but I was so focused on the form that I didn't think to look at where it was in the overall picture. This will drive me nuts, trying to find it again.]

There you go, then. Perhaps when you look at these detail shots you can get a better feel  for what goes into making these pictures. Well, maybe you'll only get a sense of how maddening they can be when I'm making them. It gets a bit wearying, having to contemplate the shape, color, value, size, etc. of each and every little bit that goes in. As an example, today I think I covered about 10 square inches (that's equal to 10 inches X 1 inch, not 10 X 10) and I thought, "Wow, I really made huge progress today!" Pathetic, especially when I know some painters who can do a 3 X 2 foot painting in a couple days..... It's actually kind of funny to recall when I once told a friend that I was painting a big picture and she said, "What? Like 8 X 10?" (The sad part is that I seem to recall that the picture was 10 X 13.)