I named this painting for a small town in Italy, San Gimignano, the city of towers. Inspired by a previous painting it was done almost totally in monochrome. There are literally three colors here and spots are 'washed' over several times between drying.

Lets look at the composition of this painting. The spire is the focal point although it could be argued that the tree on the right is the point of focus. Since it's a study of a small town, I would say the spire because it pierces the space of the sky so sharply and balances the strong statement made by the tree.

Again, shadows make the painting, especially the shadow of the tree on the front of the basilica wall. Notice how the shrub mass on the right interrupts the base of the church and directs the eye to the town. Just like the tree which literally points at the spire.

The original artist cleverly composed this painting and I was pleased to be able to render my version with little changes here and there to add drama.

Inspired by British artist Graham Timmons, The Girl in the Red Dress metaphorically addresses my love of coastal scenes. I think you can see from the painting that often white space left unpainted makes the painting sparkle with anticipation. As anyone knows who's lived on or near a beach, standing peering towards the horizon with the wind blowing somehow releases the mind to ponder. Here the strategic placement of the young woman standing watching the horizon begins to transport the viewer to that place within the mind.

A tiny painting often provides just the right avenue for such a scene. I've always loved small intricate little paintings. Not only do they make you get down closely to look at them but in the process you eliminate all peripheral visual input and you enter the scene. That happens when you paint too. I often have to squint to paint little scenes and as one of my professional acquaintances has often told me 'put the one eye on it'.

This little 3" x 5" painting provided me a chance to play with the subtleties of dune reflections. I've always noticed that the shadow parts of sand dunes really appear to be blue. Since its such a almost unnoticeable effect in the field its never dawned on me to use the color to define one. Here I think it worked well.

Lovers Oak, Brunswick, Georgia. The name conjures up a wonderful story. The 900 year old live oak tree was supposedly a place for Indian Lovers to meet and kiss their true love under it's branches. It is thought to date from the 12th century. The tree trunk is 13 feet in diameter, and 3 feet from the ground and branches into multiple limbs measuring 12 to 30 inches in diameter. Once bordered on each side by a trolley line it's now surrounded by asphalt.

Painted at the request of a friend, Lovers Oak still stands as a sentinel of times past in Brunswick and has given me an opportunity to try a new technique. If you'll notice, there is almost no way with a brush to indicate the intricacies of leaves on a tree. You don't want to simply dab paint on one little leaf at a time, not only does it not look natural but watercolor doesn't lend itself to pointillism like oils. So on this painting I used one of the watercolorists favorite tools, a natural sponge. Not only can you dab pigment on the paper quickly but areas of dark and light colors tend to bleed together utilizing a slightly watery mix.

Another technique that I enjoy but rarely use is to flick color on the paper to give the foreground texture. Using a toothbrush I load it down with paint and simply run my finger across the bristles and let the paint fly. You can see the results on the light area at the bottom of the painting.

So what I have learned from this painting? Painting around the tree trunks with the blue sky allows the trunks to pop out from the background and adds to their definition. Also, notice that I didn't paint all of the trunk but let some of the white paper show. Since light often illuminates portions of a tree and there is no such thing as a 'white' watercolor pigment you have to leave that white paper to show those reflections.

My second day and here's the result. If you haven't figured it out yet I do love Italy with all its varied color and historic little piazzas. This image was inspired from a painting I've admired for a number of years and in many ways reminds me of a tiny piazza where some friends live in Blera, Italy.

So what have I learned from this tiny watercolor? That shadows are so important to most paintings. From vast landscapes with drifting cloud shadows to little tight spaces with tightly controlled shadows they almost always require me to study the lighting closely and watch and make sure my shadow directions aren't counterpoised. I've often looked after I've painted and realized that I have the shadows of shutters showing light from the right side of the painting and in another spot I have the light casting shadows in the opposite direction. Not only does it confuse the viewer, but me too! So this painting is really a study in shadows and without them it doesn't work.

I have noticed one little mistake: I didn't shadow the geraniums in the upper left of the painting!

My first watercolor in over two years. Taken from a study in a wonderful little book named Keeping a Watercolor Sketchbook by Brenda Swenson. This painting shows a small hilltop town in Italy served by a bridge across a deep ravine. A common site throughout Tuscany.

So, what in the world did I learn from this painting? Several things; first, the trees to the left are undefined and by layering the paints I created a muddy and unrealistic treescape. Notice the trees on the right which are painted much better. Although this is considered an impressionist painting sometimes shape and form need to be addressed correctly to give the painting a sense of scale. The form of the two evergreen trees on the right gives the viewer that sense of scale.

What about the composition of the painting? Obviously since I borrowed the image the original painter spent time composing the painting so that it balances itself visually. By counterbalancing the white bridge with the dark forest on the right the painting has a pleasing balance.

What is the focal point and secondary focal point? The bridge immediately becomes the focal point of the painting but cleaverly points to the secondary focal point being the small town. The mountains behind touch the sky and give the viewer a realistic feeling of landscape.

What would you do better? I would work on those trees to the left and maybe not paint the sky so dark. I would also paint this on a larger sheet. This painting is approximately 5" x 7", much too small to actually give the bridge the attention to detail it deserves. Otherwise, not a bad first start!