Everything comes into place in one moment during a pastel painting technique course. Not dramatically, as it were, but in a rather muted manner, a sort of no. that is the way. It normally occurs when you no longer attempt to sketch lines but begin to reason in blocks of colour rather. More info about this page!
The process is strange in that shift alone is satisfying.
The method upon which I was instructed was to stack soft pastels in a loosy almost careless manner. Massive forms, no details. You lay out a dark ground, and a light ground immediately beside it, or even over it. It looks rough. A bit chaotic. But it is a weird relief not to require accuracy at the moment.
You can be a mess when you are young.
Then follows the hooking part, the blending. Not completely combining all of it to a smooth surface, enough to blur transitions. This swipe of a finger, this slight smudge of a tissue, and all of a sudden these rough blocks begin to tie together.
It is tiny, yet it seems the progress that you can see immediately.
I was not anticipating its physical nature. You can always be touching your hand on the surface, knocking dust off, pressing with one hand or the other, without actually thinking about it. It is not as much as drawing but rather moulding something with your hands.
And will you have color on your fingers.
The lesson continued to reiterate the same idea: do not hurry up to details. That was elementary, and it was all. My work appeared stiff when I disregarded that. The image became more natural when I followed it, even in a loose manner.
It has a beat to it. Block, mix, stand back. Then repeat.
The beauty of this pastel painting technique is not attributed to the final result only. It is the way every step is complete in its own right. At least, in the middle, there is something worth seeing. You are not waiting till the end before it works.
That keeps you moving.
I realized that I was now liking the process of the middle more than the final products. The rugged textures, the strokes that can be seen, that faint uncontrollability,--those elements seem to be more alive than a completely smoothed surface.
It also relieves some of the pressure. You do not strive to perfection every mark. You are working towards something bigger and in the process, you receive these little wins that help you to stay focused.
One thing is the matter, however. One can easily go overboard. Excessive mixing, excessive strata, and all begins to flatten. It is the gratifying fact that one knows when to quit even when it seems incomplete.
It is easier said than done.
Nevertheless, it is something to look forward to having gotten a feel of it. Not because it is easy, but because it runs. One thing leads to another and before you even know it, you are spending significantly more time on it than you meant to take- without getting bored at all.