I went to a friend’s birthday party last weekend. The four of us sat at the four corners of an 8 foot square table outside in the garden. It was a party without some of the usual trimmings but nevertheless it did us all a world of good. . .safely. Not at all like the party that came onto my paper on Monday, a kind of no holds barred bacchanalian feast.
It started innocently enough when I got out some inks I haven’t used in a while: the highly fluid, gorgeously pigmented, transparent and permanent Higgins inks. The black granulates when it mixes with enough water. I used a big flat brush to make some random wet marks on the watercolor paper, then started dropping inks on and moved the wet pigment puddles into each other and out in skinny fingers by zapping them with Air-In-A-Can pressurized gas (my husband’s, he used it to remove dust from film). Blowing through a straw also works. I just kept going until the party was going pretty well and then found the ideas for the visitors in a National Geographic issue.
Look who just crashed my party!
Might as well make friends with them
the biotics team, pro- and anti-
the bacterias and the god-help-us viruses
the microscopic streps and ebolas and covids
that rival the colorful characters in children’s books.
To my child self I say,
Don’t let them scare you!
Give them names and offer them a piece of cake.
On consideration however, I might have gotten it wrong. At the moment it looks more like a July 4th party!