My paternal Grandmother was artistic. She painted with Oils and Watercolours, she sketched with pencils, pastels and pens.
She and I would often sketch together - at the garden fence so we could study the horses that lived in the field next door, or in a duck field, or at a gate to draw some sheep. She would often sit in a field and sketch the view and carry on the work at home. She would always mutter that the picture was nothing much, but all were filled with charm. They were mainly of local scenes, in the South Shropshire hills, familiar views and animals in fields she knew well. Still life compositions were often set up in her little summer house or on the kitchen table.
In her latter years we'd go to a local art class together, she'd hold our art kit in a basket on her lap and I'd push her up the hill in a wheelchair to the class.
She died a long time ago now, but I use her watercolour paints every week. They are the big box so they don't go everywhere like the smaller ones that I'm not nearly as attached to.
On Thursday I decided to paint the whole of the May bouquet but challenged myself to do the whole thing in approximately half an hour. I sketched quickly which meant it was quite free and then the same with the watercolour. This was the result.
What surprised me, and the reason this picture features here is because it reminds me very much of Grandmother's style. I had a small picture of hers in my bedroom in my last house, perhaps looking at it everyday has rubbed off on me.
By coincidence today would have been her 101st birthday.