Painting Step by Step: Deliberate “Happy Accidents”

A “happy accident” in a painting is something unplanned or unintended that gives a result we like or that is interesting to work with. But I don’t have to simply wait for one to happen: I can deliberately create the conditions in which happy accidents occur, increase the odds of something intriquing happening though never having control of the outcome.

Acrylic ink is one of my favourite mediums for doing this. To do a drawing and then spray it with water. The result depends on how much ink is on the surface, how much has dried, how much water is sprayed and how close to the ink I spray it. Bonus: it freaks people out who’ve not seen it done before because it gets messy.

Here’s a photo of my final painting, before I get into the layers in it. As you can see, even though a process may be chaotic and messy, the final result need not be overtly so. The reason for doing it is that it benefits me in the making of the painting, it’s exciting and challenging in a way that colouring in a line drawing can never be.

A Piece of Portsoy Harbour.
Mixed media on A2 watercolour paper. Sold.

My first step was to do a drawing in the ink.

I could have let it dry and then add colour, but I want something that’s wilder, so sprayed it with water. (Click on a video to see it full size.)

(Click on a video to see it full size.)

The result:

I placed paper towel over the result to lift off a bit of the excess inky water.

Then I scrunched up the inky paper and stamped across the surface.

The result:

What a delightful chaotic mess to work into. It’s hard to be patient waiting for it to dry, but any wet medium added will mix in and ruin the effect, whilst coloured pencil can tear the wet surface, so I usually work on something else.

I don’t stress if my drawing has dissolved as I can always refind and redraw it. Dealing with what has happened is part of the process. I enjoy responding to what’s there and nudging it in a direction.

Next I got out my watercolours and added a layer of “harbour wall colours”.

Once this had dried, I used opaque acrylic paint to draw in the rusty ring and chains. I also added some opaque colour to some of the harbour wall stones.

Next I added a layer of coloured pencil. It’s subtle in many places, you only notice it up close.

Next layer was oil pastel, both lights and darks. The watercolour paper I’m using has a slight texture to it, which breaks up the pastel line.

I went back and forth with coloured pencil and oil pastel until I got to this point.

After pondering it for a while, I decided the darks weren’t strong enough. Time for something dramatic rather than faffing about. So I poured ink over the whole thing and sprayed this with some water.

(Click on a video to see it full size.)

Relax, remember there’s a lot of oil pastel on the surface and the ink won’t stick to that.

I left it vertical, to drip-dry overnight.

The next morning I added some light orange oil pastel to the rings, and declared the painting finished.

A Piece of Portsoy Harbour.
Mixed media on A2 watercolour paper.

A Concertina Sketchbook, Some Ink, and a Bit of Rain

I was enticed to the beach by the forecast of an extra-low tide of 0.5m, which reveals seldom-seen rocks and changes my mental images of what the beach looks like.

There is a heron in this photo if you know where to look.

I found a comfy rock to sit on, put out my concertina sketchbook by my feet and began drawing in it with ink. No sooner had I started than it began to spit with rain. Looking around there wasn’t an obvious raincloud, so I hoped it would soon stop. Spoiler: that didn’t happen.

I kept going until I got across the length of the concertina sketchbook, then turned it over to prevent the rain from washing away all my ink. Waited for a bit, and it did indeed stop raining, but by then the watercolour paper was well damp. I turned it right side up, pushed some of the ink around with a brush, and dabbed some off with paper towel. The result: more of an abstract tonal chaos than the line drawing I had envisaged. My solution: to add Inktense pencil and some watercolour. This is where it ended up:

At this point I wished I had brought my oil pastels with me, to add colour that would sit on top of what was here. Instead I watched the seagulls and heron while waiting for the paint to dry enough to fold up the sketchbook.

Back in my studio I added oil pastel, plus some acrylic and watercolour, stopping here:


With a Seawhite concertina sketchbook that contains cartridge paper, I have occasionally gotten it too wet and the paper has torn on a fold with rough treatment (such as holding the cover to pull it along to get a bit closer to myself). I’d wondered if the ones with 350gsm watercolour paper would too and the answer is yes (but it was very wet and I wasn’t being gentle). I’ll fix it with strips of wet-strength tissue paper and glue.

Painting: Tangling with a Foxglove

A solitary foxglove, reaching for the sky, betwixt the roses and their thorns, to the soundtrack of bumblebees.

Fresh off my easel: Tangling with a Foxglove. 84x54cm. Acrylic on wood panel.

The starting point of this painting was one of autumnal leaves I set aside a few years ago. Turned sideways, it would give me a background with the feeling of mixed foliage I was after. Using my beloved Payne’s grey acrylic ink and a rigger brush I drew in the main elements of my new composition for a flower painting.

I started layering in colour, pulling from my memories of looking at this little section of cottage garden, photographing and sketching on different days.

It’s one of those paintings where things just flowed, and you’ll have to look closely to notice differences between the two photos below. Much of it reveals itself only when you’re up close to the layers and in the richness of colour that glazing with transparent colours creates.

A solitary foxglove, dancing with the other flowers, to the soundtrack of bumblebees.


Tangling with a Foxglove. 84x54cm. Acrylic on wood panel. Available from my studio-gallery in Portsoy.

Plein-air Painting in Sandend

It’s nearly seven years to the day since I was last in Sandend (Sanine), during my east coast holiday in 2019. I don’t know why I haven’t been since I moved off Skye, but having seen it again I know I need to go again soon. Just on a day it’s not so hot; 26°C is sweltering to me after being in the north of Scotland for so long.

I parked and walked along to the harbour. So many paintable possibilities.

Could certainly do a series on the cottages, and probably one based on laundry.

Multiple benches to sit on at the harbour.

The viewpoint of the end of the harbour wall with the line of rock to the left appealed.

I’d brought one of Seawhite’s Octopus sketchbooks, which has eight foldout pages. I had been looking at some others I have that are dedicated to individual locations and had thought I should get back into this as it’s fun paging through them. Art materials were a dip fude pen and Payne’s grey acrylic ink, plus my watercolour set.

I suspect this bench may become a new favourite spot.

A few details that caught my eye:

Painting the Muppet Poppy

I’ve been watching this poppy plant grow taller and taller in the corner of a raised bed, the buds form, and then a flower bloom that looks more like a Muppet than anything I knew as a poppy, with its wild shredded ruffled petals. Looking it up, it would seem it’s a Black Swan poppy. It’s making me laugh every time I look at it.

How could I resist trying to paint this? The colours and chaos of the petals against the twists of stems and leaves in calmer greens.

This is my favourite of these four:

Mixed media: rose ultramarine watercolour, acrylic paint and oil pastel

This is my second favourite:

Acrylic with collaged purple tissue paper and oil pastel

The other two paintings have sections that I like. I could possibly get them working, but given the likelihood of overworking I will probably simply crop out the pieces I like as small paintings or cards.

Detail. Acrylic and oil pastel.
Detail, acrylic and oil pastel

Before these four, I did two in acrylic and watercolour. I still want to add a little oil pastel to these to increase the sense of the shredded petals.

I’ve also painted some wet-strength tissue paper with the thought to try another collage version.

I’m not sure where this might lead, but first step will be cutting it up into shredded petal pieces.

A Commissioned Sheep Painting for a Special Birthday

Now it’s safely in the Netherlands, in the hands of someone celebrating a special birthday, I can show you the painting commissioned as a surprise present. I had fun painting it and was very happy with the result. Best of all, I have been told the recipient loved it.

The requests were that it was the same size of a sheep painting bought some years ago, was dominated by pinks, and had four little sheep to represent grandchildren.

Here are a few painting-in-progress photos, starting with the first layer of colour:

The initial blocking in, giving me the composition and eliminating the white of the canvas.
Having established the background, I put in the texture paste for the four sheep (and a bit around them so they don’t feel stuck on).

This is at the “getting there, don’t mess it up now” stage. I know what I plan to do, but need to be patient enough for every layer to dry so they sit on top of each other and don’t mix together.
It’s hard to photograph, but there’s iridescent silver in the sky and on the sea.

Drawing Portsoy Harbour: “How Much was Continuous Line?”

I’ve been talking to a friend who doesn’t (yet!) draw on location about continuous-line drawing as a way of tackling complicated subjects. How the technique lets you focus on looking at the subject and drawing, rather than interrupting yourself as you draw to measure proportions. When I showed them this drawing I did of Portsoy harbour, they asked: “How much of it was continuous line?”

The answer is: most of it isn’t continuous but I’ve used the same approach. Drawing with the “I think it’s about here so let me draw that bit” attitude on repeat, not stopping to measure or check proportions. If things go awry, or rather when, I live with it, sometimes redraw, or put something in that feels plausible for the drawing.

A lot of the harbour walls stones I drew with continuous line because it’s faster and easier than doing them individually. There are a lot of stones in the walls, and it soon gets tedious drawing them one by one. They’re set in various patterns in different walls and sections within a wall, and that’s what I aim to draw: lying vertically, horizontally, the section with squarer stones. Continuous line examples marked in green in this photo.

On the nearest pier I used vertical lines to indicate the concrete section. At the back sections I have repeated this mark even though I know these are stone and not concrete, but I simply didn’t have the patience to fill these with smaller stone-shaped marks. If I had, it possibly would feel too busy and detract from the other walls. If I use this drawing for a painting, I know what’s really there. If I hadn’t pointed it out, would you have noticed?

The purple shows an area of continuous line drawing, enough to indicate that this building has exposed stonework. The yellow is where I repositioned a line of edge of this building. The three straight red lines are a roof where the angles are very out of wack to one another. The zigzag red line is a building that is too short; it was the first thing I put it in this section and when I got to the path behind it I realised. I was likely too focused on its stepped gable to the detriment of its height.

The top right-hand corner of the drawing is blank because my pen ran out of ink.

I’m not aiming to do a perfectly proportioned piece in the time I spend with a drawing such as this. My goal is enjoying sitting outside and drawing. Looking at the jigsaw of elements in this location and bit by bit putting down lines to represent things. Every time I build courage in tackling this complex scene and every time I notice something I hadn’t before. This occasion it was the rocky outcrop that this side of this pier rests on (the stonework of the other side distracts my eye view as I walk along the road by white wall).

Painting on Paper: The Turbulent Sea from Storm Dave

The named storm that came over Portsoy at the weekend didn’t bring snow as in other parts of Scotland, but Storm Dave did create a rather turbulent sea. This painting was inspired by wave watching when I went for a walk on Sunday morning.

Started with a pencil sketch, then using coloured pencil, watercolour, acrylic paint, and water-soluble crayon.

I painted it in my new studio/gallery space on Seafield Street, Portsoy (open Saturdays and by appointment), and have put it up in the window.

(Note: My phone camera has insisted on brightening the blues somewhat, even on “pro” setting. It’s more cool Prussian blue in real life, more like the last photo.)

The Difference an Oil Pastel Makes

One of my favourite ways to add light back into a mixed media painting is a light-coloured oil pastel. It sits strongly on top of everything and, as a mark making bonus, if the paper has a bit of texture, by tickling the surface with the oil pastel rather than pressing hard you get a broken dotty line.

The before photo:

The after photo:

It also works to add a broken dark line in a light area, as you can see in the blue where I have pulled a dark blue oil pastel across.

No, I can’t see the details of the rocky shore on the opposite side of the bay sitting at this picnic table. It’s a drawing about sitting in the sun, enjoying my materials (watercolour, coloured pencils, oil pastels), thinking about what the hillside will look like once the gorse is flowering, and memories of walking on that side of the bay looking at the rocks.

Drawing at Tarlair Outdoor Pool

The old outdoor pool at Macduff, Tarlair, is a location full of paintable possibilities. The building has been renovated and hopefully the plans for the pool will happen too. It’s been a while since I have been here, so I wandered around a bit looking at lines and shapes, before sitting down to draw.

So what did I decide to draw? Well, none of the pool but rather the spectacular stone arch nearby. Called Needle’s Eye according to the map.

Water-soluble ink on half a sheet of A2 watercolour paper.