Looking through photos I took of our late-summer garden, I focused on featuring the bee activity, whether visiting wildflowers or squash blossoms, I watch them work as they enter the flowers gathering pollen, their hairy bodies glistening with gold.
Don’t we often associate bees with energy? “You're a busy bee” Or “Busy as a bee”. We mean someone is energetic, productive, and hard-working. I want to be as diligent as they are.
The bumble bees are quite round and rotund compared to smaller bees who are equally busy gathering their share. I wonder if the little bees feel at all intimidated by the bigger bees dominating each blossom.
Last week, I began a 4-inch-by-4-inch aquaboard of a bumblebee crashing into the bristlecone of a prairie coneflower.
But the question I ask myself is how to create such energy in a drawing or painting, when it is a “still” picture. The photo is only a tool to remind me of the activity in the garden.
Certain colors next to each other can create a visual sense of movement and vibration. Those are the colors opposite each other on the color wheel, and when they are placed next to each other, for example, red and green, or yellow and violet, they appear to bounce when you look at them.
Another way to create energy in artwork is through the strokes an artist makes, which convey a sense of calm or gesture. I keep in mind what type of lines I’m drawing when I begin a light sketch with a watercolor pencil, then use a tiny brush dipped in clear water to draw along the lines I've already made. Drawn lines can definitely shift sentiment on paper or canvas.
Draw for yourself and think about the differences between straight, wavy, or erratic lines. Which ones appear calm, serene, or spirited?
I gradually built layers of watercolor pencils and water to blend the colors and lines, creating this artwork. Near completion, I take a razor and draw lines quickly to define the texture of the bee’s body. The background has been blurred, focusing attention on the subject.
My composition in this drawing is the bee in the top-left quarter pulling the coneflower with its weight. This also creates a triangular configuration with the bee atop the bristlecone and its yellow petals, forming a flowing skirt.
This arrangement, in conjunction with strokes and colors, portrays the bee’s thrust as it lands on the bristlecone with so much energy, conveying its impact.
Bringing the bee up close and bigger than life emulates this intimacy without threatening the bee’s productivity. It also establishes the relationship between the flower and the bee, a necessity in nature.
But wait, there is a tiny timid bee waiting. The comparison of size doesn’t diminish what the insects were each created to do. Is the tiny bee waiting for its turn, or for pollen to fall toward it, or maybe it was there first? Perhaps it was knocked off the bristlecone and is now regaining its dignity, climbing back up.
It will be a while before the bees are busy in the garden, but in the meantime, they are coming alive in my studio!
What do you enjoy when you watch bees in a garden? Please feel free to leave your comments below.
