SPLASHED !!

- New York City , Jan 17 2015

I often wonder, what would it be to see this world with out colors ?

What would it be to look at purple dusk over tangerine groves and melon fields with out the dusky shades of purple and orange  ?
How would a slash of pressed grapes look without the burgandy red?
Or deep, rich chesnuts scattered on a burnt autumn ground with out the earthy brown?
Or the wet beach sand , timely adorned and striped of sea form without the shades of pale cream , golden and caramel?
Or the azure sky on a clear summer's day battling its position between cyan and blue?
Or a vintage wedding decor without shades of muted rose , dusty browns , mauves and taupes?

Wouldn't this world be an altogether different place with out them ? Ever wondered how would a painter paint his emotions , his message , his persona , his style without them ? Vinci's "Mona Lisa" wouldn't have quite been the same hadn't it been for the blushes of pink added to the pale skin tone of Jocondo.It was this cherubic style that set Vinci apart from the painters of his era.Edgar Degas's ballerinas wouldn't have quite carried their grace and elegance without the pastel hues of pink, cream and purple.Veronese wouldn't have done justice to  his "Wedding feast of Cana" with out the medley of pacific blues and eggplant purples ;sedona browns and tan bieges ; autumn oranges and leafy greens.Ah ! what a piece of art ! Bellismo ! Not to forget the Kings of Impressionist era - Monet , Manet , Degas.It was not just the sense of depth and direction that the impressionists brought to the world of art ,but also the colors that they used that set them apart from the rest.The shift from bright and bold to soft and subtle is what separated the symbolism from impressionism.

The clock struck 10:15 am and I knew I was getting late for my class.Gaurav kept hurrying me up.Both of us decided on taking a cab instead of the subway.We stepped out only to find that it was pouring cats and dogs.

"I'm surely going to be late for my first class.", I said out loud.
"Yup, there is no way , you'll make it on time", Gaurav added.
"God knows how my instructor will react",I continued beating myself up.

Gaurav rushed upstairs to get us umbrellas.We made our way to an avenue and hailed a cab.
I scanned through my stash only to find that I was missing my strokes and graphite ! Good Lord! You gotta be kidding me ! Here I was , heading to an Oil painting class without a single brush in my kit.I couldn't help but feel nervous about getting late , about signing up for the class,about not carrying my bristles , my charcoal , about this , about that .While I sat quietly anxious and worried , observing the rain hitting the side windows, we reached , to my surprise on time.It calmed my nerves a bit.

I rushed to the 3rd floor and found my way to the Art Studio.Everyone in the class was just getting setup.I took a deep breath to the sight of what I saw.There were tall, wheatish wood framed easels stained with oil here and there ,one of which I'd be using today.They were arranged on the studio floor in a semi circular fashion around a bunch of still life object on which light was being projected.I figured, that would what we'd be painting today.I settled in my spot and unwrapped my canvas ,carefully placed it on the easel, tightened the knob and made 'it' feel comfortable.It so belonged there :) . I pulled a table towards myself and stuck on it with a rolling tape, two glazed palette sheets.Now was the time to arrange my colors.The sheer splatter from my tubes made me smile.I went from cold to warm , placing them equidistantly so that I had enough room to mix them with my 'Oh!-so-shiny' palette knife.In the end I spurted a big blob of titanium white right in the center.There I was ,ready to get started.

My painting neighbor , Francessa was kind enough to let me borrow her brushes and lead.I held the graphite in my hand for a while ,  analyzing the side composition of the still life placed in front of me.

"I think , you should get started ", said a voice.
I turned around my shoulder and there he stood in a composed disposition,folded arms, encouraging smile.
"You can get started with paint directly but if you are comfortable drawing first, go for it".
"Oh, and I won't tell you anything right now.I want to see how you approach this.Just get started".

I knew right then that I would continue coming to his classes.This was my instructor,Eric Michellson.
After getting my composition sorted ,I finally picked my brush after 'God-knows-how-many' years.I was darn hesitant making that first stroke.What should I get started with, the shadows,cold colors vs warm colors, should I fill in the base first .All kinds of questions came right pouring in.Once again, I just stood there with my brush.Just like a writer has a pen freeze, I was having a brush freeze moment myself :)

I took a deep breath in and made my first stroke.I took another deep breath in and made another and then another and then another.One stroke after the other, one color mixed with the other,and I took off .There was no stopping me there after.I quietly slipped in my zone,my world of colors.Before I knew it , two and half hours had passed by.Gaurav came over and stood behind me.I didn't even realize he was there.

"Done for the day ?" , he said.
I turned back with a lost artist expression on my face.
He looked at me and then at my soiled fingers and started laughing.
"I don't remember leaving you with a white mustache before the class. Looks like you have been SPLASHED ! "