Our youngest daughter, Tired of Being Youngest, recently started culinary school, which means that we're eating a lot better these days. It's not so much that she's doing a lot of experimenting on us — most nights she's home late and doing book homework — but on weekends she creates, and I watch. Then, during the week, I copy.
We don't have to look gentle and patient to exhibit some of these
This last week I made roux (pronounced "roo," like the Winnie the Pooh character) — a flour/butter concoction that you gently and patiently stir over low heat until it turns nutty brown. Added to soup, it transforms lunch into something decadently divine.
Now I've known about roux for years but never made it — that "gently and patiently" part always tripped me up. But it wasn't until I tasted what it does to tomato soup, thanks to one of those weekend practice sessions of our daughter's, that I realized what I've been missing all these years. Surely, I could be gentle and patient for 15 minutes.
That's soup. What about oil painting?
I'm willing to bet that there's a product or oil painting art technique or method that has been kicking around in the back of your mind for years, but you haven't tried it because of, well, that "gentle and patient" part.
"It can't make that much of a difference" you tell yourself, and don't do it again.
You may be right — it might not make much of a difference at all. Or, you may be missing out on something — like a truly delectable, complex tomato soup — and not know it.
Why not give it a try? Go ahead — doux it. What's that fine art oil painting process you have a feeling could enhance your process? Leave me a comment and let me know, and then go do it and report back!