Field Notes
Since writing my last post, I've managed to get the kit into action twice. The first time I tried, the mini brush felt awkward in my hand and I couldn't blend on paper the way I usually do because the paper for this sketchbook could only take light washes. To be clear, it's strong enough for everything else and is not downright terrible with watercolors, just not something that would stand a spray mister and wet-to-wet. I was able to layer careful application of fountain pen inks without bleeding. I was tempted to use this as a home sketchbook and sub it out with something else more suitable for mix-media, but the size is so good to bring around.
My first alteration to the kit was changing the fineliner width (something more versatile for both inking and writing), then adding a white gel pen. In the second outing, the store was too full for me to paint openly so I mainly rely on my brushpens. I did use the tiniest bit of watercolor and realized what was wrong... I really didn't enjoy using such a tiny palette. I love my gansai pans. Given that I couldn't increase the frequency of my outings, I clearly have to get used to it from the comfort of my sandbox first. I added a small piece of sponge, though the jury is out if I would prefer that over the cotton pads.
Thankfully, I do one thing right. Cleanup was easy on both counts. The least I feel they are cumbersome, the more likely I do this. So far taking out the kit is not painful, I'm just too shy to do it in front of everyone. The store regulars already know I draw and paint, it's just different if I have to tell them I'm painting them.
Which leaves one teeny teeny problem.
Here's the thing: The purple and green brushpens are my favorite and I want to use them at home too. I don't want to double up on such supplies since I don't paint often enough to deplete them regularly, and I don't want to risk ink drying in the pens. The answer is surprisingly simple: I have an alcove near my art "sandbox" where I could sit my bag. If I want to use them, I could reach for them without removing the whole kit from the bag. This way, if I forget to return the pens into the bag, I would only be missing them instead of the whole kit.
Speaking of art at home, I've been capturing process photos since my closest friends enjoy them (there's something magical watching a blank page slowly coming to life apparently). I find them useful for me later too, to review after I finish a piece. I could trace the development of the piece and the small decisions I make along the way, noting what I could have done differently. However, taking these pictures necessitates me to stop what I'm doing, fiddle with my phone, and open a chat app. If I'm not careful, it might end up taking away from the meditative quality of these sessions. The natural stopping point is usually when I finish a layer and have to wait for the paint to dry before adding another. Or when I finish a section (when working with opaque mediums, I usually block sections and tackle them one by one). I also make a conscious decision not to share every single session.
In love with a particular set of colored pencil after trying it out open stock. Sighing at the exchange rate. Soon I would have to stop buying non-essentials. The beauty of living in third world countries is watching someone exclaim they can't believe how cheap things are and things can't be this ridiculously cheap it's not real (and proceed to question the quality of said product) while us in said countries consider the price already expensive for the item in question.
Maybe if I pray hard enough someone will drop a couple hundred dollars into my Paypal account and I could breathe easy for the rest of the month (ha).