Finishing the Tackle Box Watercolor in the Cave
Finished Painting of Vintage Lures in Tackle Box
The day continues to flow smoothly, and I’m happy to be clearing out some watercolors that were beginning to stack up. This one I started several weeks ago and really enjoyed picking at. There wasn’t much left to do today, but clean up a few small details and try to heighten some of the contrasts here and there. Time to move on to the next one now.
Thanks for reading.
I paint in order to remember.
I journal because I am alone.
I blog to remind myself that I am not alone.
Tags: vintage fishing lures
Recollections 54 The Art of David Tripp 
April 28, 2013 at 2:36 pm |
this one makes me want to pick up a few lures from the painting then retrieve m rod and reel, listen to the sound of the bait-casting reel, the kersplash (shhh) of the lure, then the zen of reeling it across the water. any fisherperson would love that painting!
LikeLike
April 28, 2013 at 2:41 pm |
Awwwww. You honor me, thank you! Believe me, while painting these, my mind traveled back over experiences going clear back to my elementary school days, when my dad considered me old and responsible enough to cast his lures out into the lake without hanging them up. Thanks so much for looking, and posting. I think your floor designs are out of this world! You have an incredible eye!
LikeLike
April 28, 2013 at 2:46 pm
One of my fondest memories of my father was fishing at sunrise in a lake near our house. we were casting with plastic worms and working them slowly over a point. mist was rising off the water as the day awakened, and the falling (mississippi) river gave us just enough current to need an anchor to keep us in place. i will forever treasure that visual memory.
LikeLike
April 28, 2013 at 2:51 pm
Oh my Goodness! I SAW every single detail you just recorded! Those images and sensations match perfectly what I experienced growing up. My father was the one who taught me to love the outdoors, and fishing with lures, plastic worms, anything that would attract and anger a bass. I grew up fishing the Mississippi River in southeast Missouri. I am now a flyfisherman exclusively, but I still have a fetish for vintage fishing lures (we called them “plugs” when I was a child), and some fabulous friends recently have lent me two tackleboxes brimming with them.
LikeLike
April 28, 2013 at 5:00 pm
i always loved to watch that semi-slack fishing line slowly start moving sideways… my father would of course advise, ‘don’t jerk too soon….’ and then he’d add, ‘and jerk so that you all but fall out of the boat…’
i never cared if i caught anything or not.. just being there, being aware of using your hands and vision to connect with an invisible worm beneath the water was enough for me! we’re lucky to have such warm memories as those.
z
LikeLike
April 28, 2013 at 7:52 pm
I still remember how hard it was to wait and wait and wait, watching that line move, knowing the bass was chewing on the plastic worm, but unsure as to whether he had time to get all of it in his mouth, to set the hook. Patience! Great memory.
LikeLike
April 28, 2013 at 7:37 pm |
June 3, 2015 at 3:46 pm |
wonderful work
LikeLike
June 3, 2015 at 4:59 pm
Thank you.
LikeLike
April 29, 2013 at 6:16 pm |
This was the first painting of yours that I saw. I instantly loved it! Actually, it’s inspiring enough that I’ve been thinking about getting out the easel, canvas and paints and seeing what i can come up with. Great work!
LikeLike
April 29, 2013 at 6:26 pm |
Wow, you just inspired me, thank you! Thank you for looking at my work and offering encouragement. I’m delighted to know you have the urge to break out the supplies and go after it. There is nothing (to me) more satisfying these days.
LikeLike
May 19, 2013 at 10:28 pm |
[…] Finishing the Tackle Box Watercolor (davidtripp.wordpress.com) […]
LikeLike