“Such is the method of nature: start from a basis of utter simplicity and from it create complex and beautiful forms.” – Lee F. Ryan, The Natural Classical Guitar
The above is a painting of an imperial moth (Eacles imperialis) that spent an entire weekend on my doorstep in late August. The view is slightly askew, not directly overhead. One wing is more brightly lit than the other. It’s >99% transparent watercolor (Winsor & Newton)–I haven’t yet used opaque watercolor in any paintings–with a few final touches in wax-based colored pencil on 140-lb cold press Fluid Watercolor Paper.
I spent weeks working on this painting off and on, from as little as one minute a day to two hours a day, finally finishing it after a six-hour marathon painting session yesterday after work. My references were multiple photographs that I took of the moth from different angles. In the future, I will also take written color notes of a potential painting subject (some professional painters do this because they don’t trust the colors of photographs). This is the most complicated watercolor I’ve attempted so far as a nascent painter. Even the freehand pencil sketch that forms the basis of the painting took some time. Perhaps I’ll detail the stages of the painting in a future blog post. (Some artists recommend using mirror images to speed up drawing the second half of a moth or butterfly, but my view of the moth wasn’t symmetrical. Also, I simply enjoy the challenge of drawing freehand.)
Watercolor is an unpopular medium because it is technically unforgiving.* My friend, who is a master-level chess player, says that the first few moves in chess often decide the game. So it goes in watercolor, too: make a few big mistakes anywhere in the painting process, especially early on, and it’s all over. Watercolor, like chess, is all about planning. I spent a lot of time thinking about how to move forward before attempting each stage of the painting. There were color harmony issues to think about, difficult technical issues such as how to portray certain features of the moth using available watercolor techniques, issues of presentation (e.g., “Should I portray the moth impressionistically or with scientific accuracy?”–I opted for scientific accuracy), etc. However, despite the difficulty of watercolor, I discovered that one can often make a total comeback from perceived minor mistakes or inaccuracies. (This is also true in chess.)
Before it landed on my doorstep, I had never seen an imperial moth in-person or otherwise in my entire life. It was huge and arresting with its idiosyncratic color scheme. My girlfriend called it “that 70s moth” because of its soft dull orange and bright yellow colors that were popular in the 70s. I learned, through an internet search, that imperial moths are highly variable in color and pattern but are usually a combination of yellow and purple/red-brown (note that brown is dull orange from a color-theoretic standpoint). This particular moth’s darker colors were brown and red-brown under natural light with possible hints of purple under flash. I thought about going over the brown in the finished painting with a very light glaze of purple but feared ruining the painting if I did so. Perhaps I’ll try it in the future, but I think that sunlight portrays color more accurately than does a standard flash bulb. These were my two primary reference photos:
The internet says these moths don’t eat in the adult phase. They don’t even have functional mouthparts. They live off their fat stores, and they don’t live for long: for a few days to two weeks at most! Their sole purpose as adult moths is to reproduce. Females wait, releasing pheromones at certain times, while males search for females. The internet also tells me that males can detect the released pheromones from up to a mile away.
I initially thought that this particular imperial moth that spent the weekend at my place could be a female waiting for a male, but I now think that the large amount of dark coloration on its wings indicates that it’s a male. It had a single antenna. I often wondered, while painting it, about what might have happened to its other antenna. Creatures with missing body parts are probably very common in the wild: I sometimes see birds (especially grackles and crows) with one foot, butterflies with nipped wings, and just last week I saw a grasshopper with one leg.
*On the other hand, watercolor is the “functional programming language” of the painting world: with a functional computer programming language, one can accomplish a lot with just a few lines of code. With watercolor, one can be very expressive with just a few brush strokes. Each is also used for rapid prototyping in its respective domain.