Watercolor Wellness

Painting my way better.

I’m dreaming of cherry blossom time. (All drawings by me.)

I think certain art supplies go with certain moods. I mean, there are days when I’m in the mood to draw with my blue pencils so I can be fast and loose (my line, anyway!), and days when I have the confidence to work with markers or even—gasp!—ballpoint pen directly, no pencil or net required. Here, I’m talking not about being in the mood to use a certain type of tool, but knowing that some art supplies can change the way you feel.

Friends, it’s been a watercolor kind of week.

Last Tuesday, my Beloved Family Member (euphemism used to protect their privacy) had to go back to the hospital. Before I went rushing up to their neck o’ the woods, I made dang sure to pack my travel art supply kit. I knew I’d need to keep my cool, and when the going gets tough, I respond appropriately—and then I draw myself calm when the dust settles. I now have enough experience to share that hospitals, with their extended periods of down time even in the ER, are excellent places to draw. You need to stay calm, and drawing is a great way to do that, even if you don’t love what you’re drawing, or the subjects aren’t particularly “pretty.”

My shaky sandwich sketch, drawn on the wobbly train on the way to the hospital.

IV fluids. Not great to need, but good to draw when you’re nervous.

A few days after my BFM was admitted to the hospital, we were told that our hospital roommate tested positive for covid. We were appropriately concerned, but optimistic: after all, we’d had practically zero contact with the person, seeing them only as they passed by to use the shared facilities. There was a possibility we might dodge this bullet!

And… we did! Well, not “we,” exactly. My BFM: negative, thank goodness. Me? Like Ripley finding out she’s host to an Alien. Yep, it’s Baby’s first covid diagnosis! Woot. 😑

Since Monday, I’ve been homebound, couch-bound, with low-to-no energy for anything except saying “Ggghhhhh” or “Mmmhhhhnnnn” in response to anything my husband¹ asked or said to me (except for his offer to get Chinese food; that got an enthusiastic “PLEEEEEAAASE!”). And yet…

That hunger in me, and really, in all of us, to be creative—to draw, paint, knit, make sculptures of Devil’s Mountain out of mashed potatoes—that’s still very healthy.

Art to the rescue!

We all know that art improves our moods, and there have been documented health benefits associated with making, and even just looking at, art.² While I was, and am, too ill to make comics—too much thinking involved—I felt a pull toward watercolors. A different sort of medicine.

Watercolors were on my mind because I’d read a fun newsletter by

La Vie en Watercolor / Jessie Kanelos Weiner

about her new book, Thinking in Watercolor. (Congratulations, Jessie! Wish I could’ve gone to your book event at Rizzoli, but I know covid wasn’t on the guest list.) In this newsletter, Jessie was kind enough to mention an article in the New York Times about how more people are ditching the “quick pic and move on” tourism approach and instead, sitting down in one place and really soaking up a sight by drawing and watercoloring it in a sketchbook. My friends

Koosje Koene

and Danny Gregory have been doing this for eons now. They turned me into an urban sketching convert!

Above: a fountain in my neighborhood. Below: Some of the colors I chose for the “Las Vegas” travel watercolor kit with half pans from Winsor & Newton’s Cotman line of watercolors. Vegas-y, right? 🤩

Even though my current sightseeing options are limited to those I can see from my couch, I traveled all the way downstairs to get one of my travel watercolor palettes. I have a few, but the palette I wanted to work with is nicknamed Las Vegas; I custom-chose bright, splashy colors from Winsor & Newton’s Cotman line of watercolors (not an affiliate link; that’s a recommendation based on my personal use) for our trip to Vegas last year. W&N sells travel watercolor palettes, and you can choose their pre-loaded set or select your own half-pans, little squares of watercolor paint that look like beautifully wrapped candies—and are even more enjoyable.

Et voila—a selfie of my sick self.

Working with bright colors lifted my spirits; drawing was the meditation I needed. For a while, I could put hospitals, covid, and worries aside. There was only the present, the page, the paint.

A (very) little watercolor recommendation

There are a lot of small travel watercolor kits around, and I have a few, but even those compact kits have been too much for me to carry on my trips to and from the hospital, as was even a small sketchbook, so I needed to go super-tiny.

You’ve probably seen ads for the tiny watercolor palette and sketchbook by Four Seazons on social media; I did, and, at a low moment, I mood-ordered one. Friends, this very little kit delivers big time. In fact, it’s fabulous—one of my favorite art supply purchases to date. Again, no affiliate links here; I make zero dollars for saying that I love love love this tiny travel art kit. The sketchbook fits in the palm of your hand, and the paper is amazing; I wish they made larger sketchbooks out of it. No soak- or bleed-through, no warping, and you can use both sides. The watercolors are nice and sheer, and if you’re worried about how much paint is in the palette…they give you a bunch of tubes to replace what you use! AND they include a good quality waterbrush AND AND a wristband for wiping your brush when you change colors AND AND AND a strong clip to hold your palette to the sketchbook…design genius.

Friends, I think my next trip will be to Nap Land. Before you go, tell me: do you do watercolors? Do you have a favorite set, and a favorite book about watercolors? Got any ideas on how I can get my sense of smell back? Leave me a comment!

1. So far, also still negative; keep your fingers crossed for him, will you? 🙏

2. Please don’t ask me to look up research links now. Herculean effort.