Prague in Watercolor
Throughout my little travels, I have loved doing street watercolors. I have a water bottle, flat paintbrush, and my Sennelier watercolor set, which is—in my humble opinion—the best and most compact set there is out there. The colors are bright, earthy and last forever!
Malostranska alleyway
I would quite literally sit on the bare ground, tip a little water into the lid of my water bottle, and get to work… and the most beautiful thing was to see people’s reactions. They would peak over my shoulder, say something kind, and most of the time, if they caught me right at the end, they would offer to buy it off me for 25 Euro or something. It became an excellent way for me to pay for my food for the day while bringing someone joy.
One day my friend Hannah Brown and I were leaning on the edge of the Malostranska Bridge, painting the Prague Castle. A man with no shoes on and a rugged backpack slung over his shoulder wandered over our way, loomed over me for a few seconds and asked, “Can I have that?”
I responded, “Well, would you like to pay for it?”
He gave a little chuckle and said, “Well…I don’t have any cash, but I have some mixed nuts!”
I laughed with him, said thanks but no thanks, and we parted ways with smiles. It was a sweet and encouraging interaction.
I’ve often thought to myself, “WHY, Wendy? Why have you not been better about doing more art? Why haven’t you pursued your MFA or Masters in Art History? Why do you not practice daily?” But the fact is, as a teacher, I have to rest and feel renewed. Sometimes that’s by doing art, but sometimes it is not. But watercoloring has become a solace in a storm. A budget, no stress art form that allows me to capture the world as my heart sees it, and not just how a camera captures it.
In visiting Prague, my childhood home, filled with nostalgia and bittersweet memory, painting was a way of capturing the childlike wonder of the place. It was a way that I could honor the city in which we played, got coffee, cried, went to school, explored after church, ate with friends, and went to the movies. I could relive some sweet moments I thought I had long forgotten, and also awaken my senses in a new way to a place that was once so old and familiar…like an old pair of shoes.
In the following works, I hope you can see this nostalgic childlike wonder emerge. They are all gone— they belong to various owners, and I didn’t even capture them all. But they served an important purpose.
