A couple of weeks ago someone brought me a bag of art supplies from the 1960’s hoping I could find a home for them. The first item he took out almost made me cry. It was an almost-pristine box of VanGogh semi-soft pastels. These were my favorite pastels…they were why I started doing pastels…I loved working with them…till the company stopped making them. I felt like there was some magic in their coming to me, of all people.
They’ve been calling to me and reminding me of a time when I simply loved drawing with them…the line quality, the tactile smudging, the layering, the absolutely glorious rich color.
I thought I’d warm up with an image much like I used to do in pastels…redhead, sensual, semi-graphic. My two most beloved pets decided to join the party. I was in heaven—lost track of time, just savoring the mark-making. These pastels can simply do things others can’t…at least in my own mind and experience.
They are meant to be used, but I will use them with care, doing little images, so I can get the most from this oh-so-precious box.