For most of my life I’ve wanted to learn to paint in watercolor. It’s my favorite medium by far. I love the transparency, the degree to which paper texture controls the rendering of the image, the interaction of pigments, and the way the paint has a will of its own. Despite the totally unforgiving nature of watercolor, master artists reveal so much expression and presence in their brushstrokes, some making hyper-realistic street scenes, others compelling portraits, and a few sketch with their brushes instead of pencil or charcoal.

I’ll never create a masterpiece, or even a good piece, but I want to learn what I can. Thanks to my local college I am finally able to give watercolor my best shot. A wise man once told me that an artist only shows his best work. Sorry world, but I don’t have time or wisdom to follow that advice. Any piece I finish could be my last. But that doesn’t mean I’m not ambitious: if I can produce two or three things that my grandkids don’t eventually throw away then I’ll consider myself a success.