Since I've been studying watercolor, I wanted to find a way to create a practice. In the same way as one would create a meditation practice, I wanted a painting practice. No judgement, just watching drops of color as they arise, disperse and flow together.
'My Year of Watercolor' started February 14, this meant that I would paint one watercolor each day for the next 364 days. That was the only parameter I set for my practice, just the dailiness of it. There was no specific amount of time, no size of paper, color scheme, no decision to go black and white. But then I started asking myself those very same questions about which I had not wanted to set parameters!
What size should the paper be?
What kind of paper should I use? Should it all be the same kind of paper?
How long should I paint?
What if I need to sketch first and don't have time to watercolor?
If you notice that the operative word in these questions is should, you're not alone. I noticed it too.
Then, impatient to begin, I started painting on watercolor paper I had in my studio and set about to ordering more and quit my fussing. In short, I jumped into painting mode. On my walks I had to resist the temptation to slip into neighboring yards to clip blossom-bedecked twigs.
The daily routine has become a refuge in my overly-crowded days, an excuse to meditate.