All kinds of blue

 

It was below freezing when I got up early last Saturday morning at 6.30 for a hot chocolate. When I returned to bed, the sun was just rising after 7, the crows were calling and I snuggled under the duvet and blanket for an indulgent lie in. When I woke later, the back field was covered in a dusting of frost and the sun was out for the first time in what feels like forever. I had almost forgotten that the sky was blue, not a dingy, cold grey, with what has felt like unending rain.

As my long term aim is to be painting properly again, I have been sorting out my watercolour tubes, some of which I’ve had for over 30 years. I’ve been painting up new samples of what I have, so that I have a visual reference to help my poor memory. About 25 years ago, when I was painting regularly, I instinctively knew, through long practise, what to mix up for the exact colour I needed. Now I accept that I need to be able to see exactly what is in each tube. Which oddly is what made needle felting so accessible for me; I had all the wool colours to hand, in clear bags and it made it so much easier to create  exactly what I had in mind. Knowing how my ADHD affects me, this makes perfect sense; if it isn’t in front of my nose, I won’t remember it. 

The front room was bitterly cold, but I got the wood burner going and began a sheet of blues, to go with the greens I painted up the week before.

The morning music was provided by Midlake - one of my favourite bands, but who have been off limits for years. These two CDs were part of the musical backdrop to our move to Shropshire; Andy discovered them and we both loved them. They reminded me too vividly of that last, happier life. I have my therapist to thank for encouraging me to face things like this, and now I can dance around the room to ‘Roscoe’ with crying. Although I did cry the first time. Another thing reclaimed, and music which brings me such joy and inspiration. 

One of the blues I was sampling was a generous present from a kind friend, and it’s the most expensive paint I own; Sleeping Beauty Turquoise by Daniel Smith. It actually cost more than I spend per week on food. It is made from pure pigment, from a mine in Arizona, hence the price, and is the most perfect turquoise I have ever seen. 

I’d been trying (unsuccessfully) to capture this exact shade for a new hare decoration. As you can see here, in these two first drafts, it wasn’t working at all. 

It’s a little like Daniel Smiths’s Cobalt Turquoise, but is just a smidgen more subdued, with an exquisite, subtle dullness. I have yearned for this colour ever since discovering its existence and I feel very lucky to own my own tube of it now.

Although the fire made the room bearable, it was still cold enough that I was chilled through by the time I’d finished. Happily, I had a pot of bean and vegetable soup ready, with a new batch of bread rolls. Time for a hot water bottle, bed, and an afternoon nap.