A He Xie Fen Cai was as though a box of sunshine. Chalky sticks. Powder on fingers. Living color that thou art recalling my mumbling and toasting my straining. Novices have been known to be afraid of rules but pastels are not easily forgetful of mistakes. Smudge. Lift. Layer again. The conversation is conducted by surface. Want access to all tutorials, visit our site to join the program.
Pastels speak quickly. You see results in minutes. When such speed is established, confidence is created. Confidence feeds momentum. It is momentum that makes people come back. A course is to arrange without killing the interest. You learn strokes and mixing of pressures and color without wasting time in theory. It feels practical. It feels doable.
There’s a tactile joy here. Pastels do not veil themselves with water and paints. Gigant arm confronts color. The contact there purifies the eyes. You notice edges. You notice light. The shadows no longer are dreadful amorphous entities but come to serve as helpful guides. At one time one student joked that pastels are training wheels to vision. It’s funny. It’s also true.
Mistakes lose their sting. Pastels invite revision. A rough sky will be rescued by an abrupt mixture. A doctor blushed is spared by an all-dark line. Lessons are learned on how to correct without shying. Transference of the same teaching everywhere. Work. Hobbies. Even conversations. You get accustomed to adjusting instead of quitting.
Time matters. Short sessions work. One can be satisfied doing something in the next ten minutes. That fits busy lives. A course comprises small win lessons. Small wins stack up. Then before you know of it you have built a habit. Habits vanquish motivation each and every time.
Color theory arrives gently. You mix on the page, not in a jar. Warm against cool. Soft against loud. The feedback is instant. This is the quicker way of learning harmony in novices. It is similar to the fact that we have to learn how to cook and even to taste in the process.