Going through a rainbow

These two pages were facing each other in my Johanna Basford Enchanted Forest book, the top pic on the left-hand side page, and the bottom pic on the right side, so it was a garland of leaves tripping across a double-spread.

Fresh from my previous exercises in keeping to one color, I rendered these two pages in the colors of the rainbow, starting with blue to blue-green, then grading over to greens with progressively more yellow until the yellows took over.

Next, with the addition of increasing amounts of red, the yellows morphed into orange; then with the addition of more reds, the garland turned from orangey-red to blue-red, then over to purple, starting with a reddish purple (mahogany). With increasing amounts of blue added, the purple became a royal purple (my favourite color), and then back to blue to green to yellow.

The birds were colored grey so they wouldn't compete for attention with the garland.

I have to admit this idea isn't original. I saw a similar work like this online - also on a Basford drawing - so I just had to try it out myself, to do it my way, and this Basford picture, with a strung-out garland, seemed to lend itself to this attempt. This exercise made me think of color, and how to render the hues so that they "flow" smoothly, one into the next.

VIBGYOR was a mnemonic we learned in primary-school science, with the letters standing for the colors of a rainbow in the order they are stacked. Violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red. This garland follows that order.

Speaking of those days of long ago, I have set myself my next assignment - to draw (and color) something from my childhood - a carousel horse.

I follow the contemporary American artist David Palmer of David Palmer Studio on Instagram and he has been posting awesome pictures of his works (in acrylic)  featuring carousel horses. Unlike me, his works sell for money!

I will make my own humble attempt at drawing such a horse next. I won't use his works as reference - somehow, the thought of copying a professional artist's works is loathsome to me - but will use an online photo of a carousel horse instead.

Watch this space for my horse. When I get (or make) the time. As always, work keeps getting in the way.

Speaking of carousels... Singapore's now-defunct Wonderland Amusement Park was in the news recently. A festival that trades on nostalgia for a long-gone Singapore lifestyle is coming, and an attempt will be made to recreate some of the features of that park, which sat on the site of today's Indoor Stadium.

I have fond memories of Wonderland. Dad used to bring me and Anne there on Sunday nights, after dinner. We had such a great time there that the usual Sunday-night pang of having to go to school the next morning would hit even harder than it would have if we had just sat at home to a blah evening by the TV.

The carousel horses in that park weren't anywhere as elaborate and beautiful as David Palmer's horses, but they brought us joy anyway. It didn't take much in those days, given that there was no Internet, TV wasn't in a golden age, and there weren't half as many other entertainment options.

I remember that when the time came for us to take leave of Wonderland's roller coaster, the spinning tea cups and the carousel, Dad would offer another one of his maxims when he saw our downcast faces: "All good things must come to an end."

At the time - I was 12 or even younger - I accepted that as a Truth of Life. I suppose now, with the benefit of age, I can see that it just might have been a tad cynical. Don't at least some good things last?

Anyway, Dad, you are seriously missed, and you have been gone 14 years. Fourteen!  Wherever you are now, a Happy Fathers' Day (slightly belatedly), and a Happy Birthday in advance. You would have turned 88.

A study in reds

I was thinking of this as a cushion cover. I chose red for this picture from my Johanna Basford book (Enchanted Forest) because it gives a wide spectrum to play around with - from the deep Tuscan Red at the bottom left-hand corner through to the bright Poppy Red and oranges and even yellows.

Done, another exercise in keeping to just one color and its related shades.

The two birds were rendered in blue and blue-green for the sake of contrast, because the flowers in that part of the picture were orangey; it's where I chose to make the spot where the light hits.

A brass compass

I picked this image out of Johanna Basford's Enchanted Forest book to have a go at coloring metal, highly-reflective metal.

I worked with a deep brown (Espresso), moss green and a lemon yellow to capture the highlights and dark reflections. I turned to the Internet's stock photos of brass compasses for reference photos to see the play of light and dark.

For the ring of plants and animals surrounding the compass, I continued my exercise in limiting the color palette, this time to greys - cool greys, warm greys, French greys, sage green, slate grey and some browns. The only pops of color come from the blackberries (at left) and red fox (at 1 o'clock).

Not a sterling result, I think. More practice needed for metal.

Limiting the palette on each work

I've seen the gamut in color pencil works online - those that throw every color of the rainbow in and those that seem more studied in limiting the colors used. Fine, I guess there's no "right" and "wrong", but I wanted to give the latter style a try, as an exercise in picking the colors that work together and yes, discipline as well.

The following works are the result. (The hedgehog got several "likes" on my Instagram feed.)

Hedgehog with autumnal palette of leaves. All earthy shades.

A palette of cool blues and blue-greens, with white flowers
 (my favorite!) and some chartreuse accents.

Browns for the squirrel, with red bits in the tail for accent.
The plants were kept to an autumnal palette that played off the
browns on the squirrel. 

There is really no need to go hog wild with color all the time. A little restraint is good as well. I've seen entire pages of leaves and flowers done in only white and blues, recalling the splendor of Ming vases.

A clan crest from the realm of fantasy

Another picture from my Johanna Basford Enchanted Forest book. I'm not moving through the book in order, but picking pictures that I want to do.

I went for this because of the sword, thinking it would be an exercise in coloring metal. From my readings here and there, metal, being highly reflective, is rendered by highly contrasting shades, say black (or dark grey) and white, sitting starkly next to each other. And any other color that appears on the surface would come from reflection of objects nearby.

But this sword is pretty small, and so gives little opportunity to introduce any other color.  I decided to stick with black and white.

It. Didn't. Quite. Work. Did it?

The rest of the picture... well, it was a matter of sticking to a palette of greens and not straying too far from that. Nearer the bottom, warm greens, orange, beige, brown. Nearer the top, a cool, silvery green sits below the two birds, done in blue/green/red.

Peacock

I'm on a roll.

Still on my Harmony of Colours book (Book 4), I went to the page with the peacock, treating this as another exercise in playing with color.

Plan: To use blues/greens/teal and deep purples/pinks on the bird, and, in order for it to pop out from the rather busy background, I wanted the background to be in muted earth tones.

Result:  I think the plan worked?

 

A color-corrected lion

My (mis)adventures in playing with color continue.

I went back to my Harmony of Colours book (Book 4) over the weekend and picked out the lion to work on with my Prismacolor set. In my head, I envisioned a pair of flashing eyes in a strong color, the face in shades of warm browns, and the mane, also in shades of warm brown, but lighter.

It didn't quite turn out like that. I mean, I got the flashing eyes all right. And even did a commendable job (Ithink!) on the "emerald" jewels on the lion's forehead. But the choice of color for the face and the mane didn't quite work so well.

In fact, it was a disaster in need of correction at a subsequent coloring session. The face was at first done in browns that were too reddish and to clayey for a lion. Then I compounded the mistake by doing the mane in ... yes, lighter, colors, but the wrong lighter colors.

When I was done, the lion didn't look anything like a majestic beast of the Serengeti. Its mane came out in streaks of Canary Yellow and Pumpkin Orange. Definitely a ginger lion, haha. And then the yellows and orange clashed with the warm reddish browns near the face.

On my next slot of two hours of free time available, I set about doing a color correct. Added Sepia (a deep brown) and 70% French grey to tone down and deepen the too-raw orange and yellow respectively, and then added Golden Rod to tone down/add yellow to the too-red browns and too-grey French greys.

The following was the result:

The yellows are still arguably too yellow.
but you should see the original.
This was supposed to have been a dignified, tawny
colored beast, ruler of the African plains.
Sigh. Sorry.