Mention Van Gogh and sunflowers and you probably vidualise one of his still lifes of sunflowers in a vase (there were seven: five are in museums, one with a private collection, one lost in the Second World War). But there are other less-well-known, earlier paintings of his involving sunflowers:

"Allotment with Sunflower", Vincent van Gogh, Paris, July 1887, oil on canvas, 43.2 cm x 36.2 cm, Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam (Vincent van Gogh Foundation)
Shed with Sunflowers, Vincent van Gogh, Paris, August-September 1887, pencil, pen and ink, watercolour, on paper, 31.6 cm x 24.1 cm, Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam (Vincent van Gogh Foundation)
"Sunflowers Gone to Seed", Vincent van Gogh, Paris, August-September 1887, oil on cotton, 21.2 cm x 27.1 cm, Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam (Vincent van Gogh Foundation)
Sunflowers, Vincent van Gogh, 1887, oil on canvas, (43.2 x 61 cm, Metropolitan Museum

Sunflowers, Vincent van Gogh,1889, oil on canvas, 95 cm x 73 cm. Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam (Vincent van Gogh Foundation)
Sunflowers, Vincent van Gogh, 1890, pencil on paper, 13.4 cm x 8.5 cm. Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam (Vincent van Gogh Foundation)
Sunflowers, Vincent van Gogh,1890, pencil on paper, 13.4 cm x 8.5 cm. Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam (Vincent van Gogh Foundation)
"Vincent van Gogh Painting Sunflowers" by Paul Gauguin, 1888, oil on canvas, 73 cm x 91 cm, Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam (Vincent van Gogh Foundation)

The colours in Van Gogh's famous still lifes have changed over time, "mainly caused by a certain type of red paint (geranium lake) fading and a certain type of yellow paint (chrome yellow) darkening" (source: Conservation treatment 'Sunflowers', Van Gogh Museum). If you don't see the video below, click here.

"The stupidest possible creative act is still a creative act. … And once they've done it, they can do it again, and they could work on getting it better.

"There is a spectrum between mediocre work and good work, and as anybody who's worked as an artist or a creator knows, it's a spectrum you're constantly struggling to get on top of. The gap is between doing anything and doing nothing."

Clay Shirky, How Cognitive Surplus Will Change the World, TED June 2010

Your very worst painting is more of a painting than the brilliant one you're still thinking of doing.

Higham Hall Workshop: Sunset painting
This painting was done by a participant of one of my Higham Hall workshops, using of one of my reference photos as inspiration. (And I still love this painting C., and still haven't tackled my own version!)

Take yourself back to a long sandy beach with a rain shower on the horizon, to the July's Painting Project: Rain Shower at Thorntonloch Beach, and enjoy the paintings this inspired:

By Cathi: "First attempt with my new inks and pen (bit of titanium white in there as well because the beach had got too dark!) Quite tricky to blend in! The white strip in the cloud is the shine in the ink where the paper buckled a bit, not the actual colour. It looks OK 'though."

From Marion: Far more than merely okay, I'd say! Wonderfully moody and expressive. Only thing I might still do is soften/lighten the black clouds on the right with the thought that clouds typically thin on the edge of a shower.

By Cathi: "Second with my graphite 'chunks' — love the different marks you can make just dragging these!"
From Marion: Good choice of paper, with the surface texture. If you want another challenge, try combining this style of drawing with watersoluble graphite or watercolour, to contrast wet/dry mediums in wet/dry parts of the composition.
By Lynn: "My painting went through many changes. I was attracted to the contrast of the dark rocks and light patches of water on the beach in the original photo. It evolved into more green colors and sky. I love color and was especially drawn to the subtle streak of turquoise in the sky. I haven't painted in a while.. totally enjoying the process. Everything falls away when I'm covered in paint! Thank you for the inspiration."

From Marion: The gentle touches of blue in the sky really capture that sense of the clearer weather being pushed out by the incoming shower. For me you've really captured the sense of the tide having gone out leaving slippery green seaweed amongst the puddles of water and rocks.

By Bee: My first attempt at this.
From Marion: I like the ink work, which feels solid like shore rocks yet simultaneously like water is hiding parts of it as the waves come in.
By Bee: "A further attempt in oil on paper, which I had a fiddle with after your comments, but I am not sure if it is better or worse."
From Marion: Having a further go with a painting always risks not making things better, but I try to remind myself that it wasn't working to my satisfaction anyway. I do prefer the colour variation in the sea as you've got it now, that it's less blue, but think the rain shower remains unresolved.
By Eddie: "I did a very stormy sky picture with water-soluble graphite and charcoal then added pastel. I decided it was just too gloomy for me so decided to crop it into a panorama which I like better. But my muse has definitely left the building."

From Marion: Between the pandemic and Brexit, I think the Muse is hibernating from a lot of us! I like the abstract quality of this painting, how it says so much through the shapes of colour, with the grass in the foreground enticing me up and in, as if I'm about to step over it.

By Eddie: "When the previous painting had been on my easel for two weeks I took it down and, largely from memory, I decided to do a lighter, sunnier version to celebrate the glorious weather we are having."

From Marion: This painting has a suggestion of a storm that links it to the previous one, but it's definitely a rain shower blowing away


This was the painting I did from that rainshower, see my blog Fresh off my Easel: Incoming Rain Shower for more photos.

"Empathy, like love, has a reputation for softness. It too often reads as compromise or pandering. But empathy, like love, can be radical. It asks everyone to give and see more than they may otherwise feel is possible …

"Art bends and distorts perceptions. It demands comfort with ambiguity, and in an ambiguous world, there may be no more valuable skill."

Sam Ramos, "Why Connecting Legal and Medical Professionals to Art is Essential", Hyerallergic.com 24/8/21

There are no guarantees when you pick up a brush, yet we can do it with such hope, in anticipation of channelling our best version of our creative selves, this time. And the next, and the next. Hopes held together by threads of love and empathy for our creative selves .

Seaglass wirework bracelet
Wirework bracelet using some of sea glass I found

I've had another round of painting that tall sunflower (see The Sunflower). This time I painted indoors using my previous drawings, memory, and photos as reference rather than being outdoors with the flower itself, because I needed a gentle day, not one squirrelling on the ground to paint.

First attempt was with the tallest piece of paper I have with me, a piece I'd previously concertina-ed. I started with Payne's grey acrylic ink, which isn't a surprise, but used a stick to apply it rather than the dropper, which produced a scratchy line. Then used watercolour and acrylic paint.

I had a go at reworking one of Sunday's paintings. I don't feel like I entirely resolved it, but like it better than it was.

I then tore a sheet of A2 watercolour paper in half, taped the edges, and got rid of the white by mixing up all the leftover paint and adding water so it became a lightish background colour. As I intended to use the same colours again in the sunflowers I was going to paint on these sheets, I knew the background colour would sit harmoniously.

I like parts of all the paintings. If I were to choose only one, I think it'd be the concertina one with its brighter colours.

How little is too little to convey the essence of a location, when have I stopped too early and where does it tip into being overworked? These are questions I found myself pondering on as I sat painting in the sunshine on the beach at Thorntonloch.

First attempt was with Payne's grey ink.

I was tempted to add some colour to this, as it felt too uniform in tone, and I lost the white on the wave edges, but decided to let it dry, and then look at it again later. I suspect a little pale watercolour may be what it wants, and/or some coloured pencil lines, and/or white acrylic ink. I'll decide when I look at it with fresh eyes.

Second attempt started with phthalo turquoise and Payne's grey.

I stopped here because I liked it, but do wonder if it would benefit from a little colour in the sand in the foreground. Maybe a granulating watercolour like hematite genuine. The lack of drips and runs are because my spray water bottle stopped working, so I didn't have to resist using it.

Third attempt I decided to use colour from the start. All was going well until I got too heavy handed with the rocks in the middle, (with tone and indenting the paper with the stick I was using to draw). I was using transparent colours and didn't want to add white just yet

I decided to see if using more colours and making it a band of rocks would resolve it. So out came some purple (in addition to phthalo turquoise, Payne's grey, and transparent orange).

I stopped here to let it dry, with the thought that I would have another round with some coloured pencil on the foreground and rock band. But that's easier done on a table than sand.

"Rarely is a landscape painting simply a transcription of place, unmodified by any further element.

"In all representation of place there is an element of serious play with time. Either the depiction of a landscape as it was on one day incorporates elements of the changing patterns of light and weather all through the hours that were spent in the making of the painting, or the apparent capture of an instant appears to set time itself at defiance."

Peter Davidson, introduction to exhibition catalogue "James Morrison: The Edge of Allegory", July 2009

It's your painting, you get to decide.

Clock with hands drawn in with a pen

"I like working abstractly, or trying new experimental methods just to see what happens, because it helps me just… get paint on the paper. It helps me explore.

"… More than just letting go of control, the goal was almost to activate a loss of control at times, and then ride the wave and see where it took me.

"Little paintings … are great, because if I screw it up I don't care. That' allows for a lot of room to play."

Stephen Berry, Summer Art Experiments

It's not wasting paint, nor paper, nor time, nor opportunity. It's using paint and paper and time to explore the unpredictable and unexpected, to let the materials lead you.

Knowing exactly how something is going to turn out is desirable when baking a cake. In painting the process can be more than enough of a reward in itself. A pleasing end result might happen, or it might not; that's another chapter in the story.

Work in progress. Ink on paper, wet-into-wet (water brushed onto areas of the paper before applying ink).