Capturing the Uncatchable: My Obsession With Painting Water
Bialik Square | May 2024, Watercolor and Acrylic
Painted by Miri Smerling
Around this time last year, I began to see water in a whole new way. While attempting to paint a fountain I loved in a central square in my city, I got to experience the process of an Impressionist artist. I sat there with my watercolors for an entire afternoon, painting in real-time, captivated by all of the colors present in this fountain. The lily pads, the different shades of blue and green, the bright pink flowers, but most of all, that calm, relaxed feeling that it brought.
I remember thinking, “How do I paint this feeling?” Not just the image, but the sensation sitting there. I thought about how special water is, because it takes so many forms. It can be soothing and sparkling, but it can also be dark, stormy and dangerous.
There’s a kind of magic in trying to capture something that refuses to be captured. Water doesn’t sit still. It ripples, flows, dances. It distorts the world around it and reflects things back in strange, beautiful ways. It’s never just blue. It’s light and shadow, memory and emotion, the in-between.
Whatever it is, I have found myself coming back to it again and again, trying to make sense of it.
When I paint water, I feel like I’m collaborating with something alive. I let the brush move a little looser. I allow for accidents. I layer washes and glazes to create depth, knowing that the way the pigments settle will mimic the way water finds its shape.
I’ve also found that there’s something very meditative about painting water. This slow, intuitive process of interpreting that juxposition, movement with stillness.
And every time, I discover something new.
Some days, painting water feels like coming home to a part of myself that understands the world through emotion, not logic. And I think that’s why I keep coming back to it. Because water, like art, is a place where things can be fluid, imperfect, and real.
If you’ve ever stood by the sea or a stream and felt your heart slow down… if you’ve ever been mesmerized by the way sunlight plays on the waves or how puddles reflect the sky, you might understand why this subject has such a hold on me. It’s not just about painting nature. It’s about painting a feeling.
In the last year alone, I found myself painting the ocean, many beach scenes, lakes I’ve visited and small streams. Slowly it has become my all-time favorite thing to paint and one of my signature subjects of interest. For me, painting water feels like painting memory. The places I’ve traveled, the turquoise shores of Panama, the soft lakes of Germany and Crete, the Mediterranean at sunset, each with their own story. My paintings have now become the keepers of those moments for me.
As part of this experience I wanted to share a poem I wrote that compliments my pieces, called “By The Sea”.
Playa Venao | Nov 2024, Acrylic
Painted by Miri Smerling
By the Sea
The rays of sunlight draw me near
To the sea, to the place that I hold dear
Just to feel the winds that glide
Deep through my soul, awakened inside
The waves are calling out my name
The currents wild, untamed
They filter through my restless mind
And leave a cleaner page behind
They never judge the way I’ve been
The waves create more calm within
Though their shapes may shift and sway
They remain in the now, today
The sea serves hope on an ancient plate
Like a deep slow breath, that resets fate
Like a kiss unending, warm and true
Like a love so vast, it carries you
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