The first oil paintings of my daughter

TRANSLATION NOTES: Please read some comments at the end of this post.

I’m back. After three years of egeomates, I decided to take a rest which I needed. I had time to make a couple of trips not necessarily of work, see the world cup quiet, and do some empirical art that which relaxes.

I returned to painting, but this time not with oil, I want to play with acrylic and paste texture. So that my children will not destroy my will, I bought them some canvas, a miniature easel, oil and turpentine to make them all comfortable with art that already have.

Here I show the results of the nearly eight years of my daughter, who had hardly dared to watercolors and tempera.

Her first strokes. It was her first encounter with a two edges fresh mix and not knowing what to do.
Here doing their mixing with the spatula. Cost him a little draw tube colors without getting joined (*).
There she goes again, from top to bottom, with a 12 flat brush. Synthetic bristles but that operates like camel hair.
Finally she finished with the legs defaced and the smell of turpentine left a snarl on his chest because of her asthma. But it is a love. I gave her a glass of milk to reduce the toxicity and the next day there was ready again.
She sat down to do a few doodles, without deciding to imitate my cubist crazy style or her child figures.

With the first she learned several concepts that I do not were taught in the first time: to spend the primer layer with thinner to avoid cracking it dry, to control the borders between flat tones, not to leave blanks, to not use a very dry brush and never put color in direct tone that comes in the tube.

And while my son was complaining because the Netherlands did nothing in the end of the game … she dared after a second.

Finally she finished after 44 minutes with painting on the cheeks clip_image009and hands.

Undoubtedly, she will no longer need my basic advice. She has the desire and the tusk.

We’ll see how long it last the inputs I left for her.

Now we will go with my son, that when was very little had tried with oil on unprimed canvas.

Certainly it’s not her original style, but seeing my moments of madness with these mosaics she already knows the skill. More to be fine with me than herself, but she’ll develop her own style.

What satisfaction has caused me!


(*) Encolochar. Central American Idiom which means get joined or mixed

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