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The day started like any other: birds were chirping, squirrels were hoarding nuts for the winter, and I was staring blankly at a canvas with a sketch of a dragonfly, willing inspiration to strike. As a self-proclaimed artist (though my dogs would argue the point), I prided myself on being unconventional. I didn’t want to paint just any dragonfly, I needed as sweet escape from reality. So, instead of the usual acrylic paints, I reached for my trusty box of gansai-tambi paints – tiny jewels of color waiting to be unleashed.

Now, gansai-tambi paints are known for their vibrancy and shimmer, and let me tell you, they did not disappoint. With the enthusiasm of a toddler with a box of crayons, I attacked the canvas with a a large circle of shimmering bronze, then gold, then green, blue, orange… when will the circles collide? I was soon transforming the once-white surface into a mesmerizing vortex that seemed to pulsate with warmth. The white dragonfly left, starkly in the middle.

Now, for the main event: the dragonfly. I envisioned a creature of whimsy and flight, a burst of color against the shimmering bronze. But as I dipped my brush into the paint, a mischievous glint entered my eye. “What if, instead of meticulously painting each detail, I embraced the unpredictable nature of the watercolors?” I said aloud to myself. My dogs raised their ears in amusement.

With a flourish, I dripped and splattered greens, blues, and purples onto the canvas, letting the colors dance and mingle as they pleased. It was like watching a fireworks display in slow motion, each splatter adding a unique spark to the dragonfly’s wings.

But something was missing. It needed…texture! I drop my brush and run down the stairs and soon return, breathing more heavy than I care for, with my prize in my hand.

Enter the humble paper towel. With the nonchalance of a Jackson Pollock impersonator, I dabbed and blotted at the wet paint, reveling in the way the colors morphed and shifted. The once-uniform washes became a kaleidoscope of splotches and speckles, each one a testament to the happy accidents (thanks, Bob Ross) that happen when you embrace the mess.

I continue the color motif of the wings on to the body, this time assuming the radiating, repeating pattern like the circles below it. Soon, the dragonfly takes the shape of an android or an alien. I like it. It’s different. It’s far-out. It’s Funky.

The style turned out to be considered abstract geometric art. This style of art is characterized by the use of geometric shapes, lines, and colors to create a composition. The artist does not represent real-world objects in the painting, but instead uses the elements of art to create a sense of balance, movement, and harmony. Specifically, the painting is in the style of hard-edge painting. This is a type of geometric abstraction that emerged in the 1960s, and is characterized by the use of clean lines, flat planes of color, and a focus on precision and clarity.

And there it was – a dragonfly unlike any other, its wings a testament to the beauty of imperfection. Sure, it wasn’t your typical, detail-oriented masterpiece, but it had heart, it had soul, and it had a story to tell – a story of a blank canvas, a unique, jewel box of paints, and an “artist” who wasn’t afraid to get a little messy.

Is there a life lesson here? Probably. You tell me!

If you are interested in a print of this painting please use the contact form below and we can work together on the perfect size and style of print that you wish. Please feel free to use the form below for commissions or gallery appearances as well. I will answer your request as soon as possible.

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