Falling in love again

On Saturday my hands stopped shaking for a while, thanks to sleep, food that stayed down, and yes, drugs, so I was able to try a new paintbrush I’d ordered.

Painting on a very small scale has distinct challenges, particularly when the surface is irregular. Generally detail work is all about pointing: the ability of a brush’s bristles to come to a smoothly tapered sharp end when wet. Kolinsky, squirrel, goat hair… high-grade soft natural bristles, expertly trimmed, make the best points and hold a proportionately large amount of paint. The problem is springback; I need a precise point, but I also need it to have some body, some bounce, in order to “draw” in different directions without constantly rotating the piece, and super-soft bristles won’t do. Synthetic fibers are better-suited, but even ones designed for miniature painting haven’t made me happy so far. They lose point quickly, split or curl or develop stray hairs, and I have a very, very light touch with a brush. Unbelievably frustrating, working around your tools.

Then, this weekend, the Silver Eagles came into my life.

No, not an aerobatic squadron – two little paintbrushes, with points worthy of dancing angel feet and enough spring to slap you in the face and make you want more. I feel as though I’ve been painting with a toilet brush until now… ahhhhhh.

Hello, my little love. Hello, you gorgeous 20/0 sharp round. With you in my hand, I can paint anything.

(Monday) Gearing up for the first session with my alliteratively-named therapist and I can’t stay away from these brushes – I keep running upstairs to do just one more thing, running downstairs to make phone calls, thinking of something else to sketch in, running back upstairs… it’s lurv, all right.