All it took was one word to inspire designs for painting rocks with kindness. I always enjoy painting seascapes, and what better time to do so than in summer?

Reading @mipiano’s post, I spotted the word ‘octopus’, even though the drawing was a beautiful sun, perhaps not from Earth, but from a marvellous planet, one where the kindness of all the rocks we paint in this community resides, allowing us not only to create art but also to spread good vibes. Every rock can be a gift, a message, a source of motivation.
The truth is that suddenly the image of a jellyfish popped into my mind; I love jellyfish, and straight away I remembered that when I was a child, I didn’t just like horses galloping through fields, hills and nature, I also found seahorses utterly fascinating. I saw them as transparent and fragile. I’ve never actually seen one in real life, but their appearance always struck me as something belonging to the world of fantasy, even though they do exist in reality.



On the other hand, whilst some jellyfish are dangerous, and I had an experience as a child when I stepped on one barefoot and my leg turned red up to the knee, with an unbearable pain I’ll never forget, I love them for their shape, their dance and their significance as a power animal, alluding to the mysterious and the occult. It’s beautiful to watch them in the water as the current carries them along and as they swim, much like a subtle dance, as if they were ballet dancers.
I remembered that, although I haven’t been able to go to the beach this year, not yet, anyway, I did take a walk along the shore at sunset and found some very curious rocks. As you can see, one looks as if it’s made of brick and has a porous texture. The other is grey, rather smooth, and I wanted to try painting on both of them.



But this time I didn’t sketch first, because I used a different technique. I painted the background, that is, the rocks, with different shades of blue, three in total, as well as purple and black. The reason I did this was so that later, when I drew the jellyfish and the seahorse or outlined them in white, the white paint would show through the colours underneath, making them stand out, and that’s exactly what happened.
I applied the blues and purple randomly, and the black along the edges of the rocks, but then I started drawing with pure white, and as I did so, the blues began to show through because in several places they blended with the white. In the areas where I wanted only white, I applied it very thickly, as if making little dots.




Then, for the jellyfish, I used colours such as skin-tone pink or flesh-colour, as well as carmine and purple for some parts, a jellyfish that also fits within the fantasy setting. As for the seahorse, I applied orange to some areas, as in others the blues of the background were visible when I went over the outlines with white. Here, too, I used a lot of pure white to highlight certain areas. The contrasts turned out beautifully, and I liked the texture of the rock where I painted the jellyfish, it gives it a distinctive style.




These rocks and the paintings on them evoke simplicity and apparent fragility, yet also an inner strength capable of sustaining life. They are practically transparent creatures; there’s no room for concealment or deception, and I think that’s something I love about these species. They convey a powerful message just by looking at them.
Thank you very much for joining me today; warm regards to you all. See you soon. Amonet.
All photographs are my own.








