The Dry Wipe
On paper thirsty for fluid
I spell out to my students with impatient brushes
Watercolours behave as an old man walking uphill.
Excitedly in a rush to please,
They dip their sable brushes in water
As clear and transparent as glass wiped dry.
Seconds before the tips reach their sheets’ grainy surface
I advise them as a wet-blanket with clear intention
They do not want too much water
Unless they feel like controlling bloated paper.
And I think as they look confused and disappointed
About years of trying my hand at perfecting
My painting, keeping you compressed and folded
In every fearful cloud or tree or mountain I drew
Feeling, too little or too much control of those colours
Could mean your absence was as visible as amateur art.
I see my students won’t learn a thing or two today
Their sketches are smudgy and puffy,
They are too new to be comfortable with strokes
That won’t always work with a dry wipe
Gathered in hindsight.
©2023 Kaustabh Kashyap.
