Polina Panova

I create beauty ❤️

I've painted many, many valentines and figured out which paints are best for them. Read on to find out 💭

Oil is definitely not an option, as it takes a long time to dry and requires special paper, varnish, medium, etc. But if you need to create a lot of beautiful hearts quickly, it's better to consider the options I've listed below.

👇🏻

Acrylic - yes and no... It's a rather heavy option, but if you want large, impasto brushstrokes, you can use it, but use special paper for watercolors and acrylics, like I have in the photo.

Pastel - questionable, but okay... Even if you seal it with a special artist's spray varnish, it might still stain something in the gift box...

So what should you use for valentines?

💋 Watercolor - light and delicate, like the feeling we all feel on Valentine's Day.

If you want to create an interesting blurred background, first spray the watercolor sheet with water from a spray bottle, then apply your favorite color with a soft brush.

💌 Gouache is an excellent, quick-drying medium. You can create subtle, impasto strokes. But don't overdo the layer thickness, otherwise the paint may crack and flake.

So, what would you choose for the best gift?

Personally, I chose gouache for the Valentine's cards in the photo, and I used eyeliner for the lettering.

Good luck creating Valentine's cards for your loved ones ❤️

«Птица на снежной ветви»: бесплатный детальный разбор в PDF 🤍🧸

Я подготовила для вас подарочек - нежный зимний референс и полноценный гайд как написать его маслом

🌬️🪶 В детальном PDF-разборе вы найдете:

Качественный референс с птичкой на снежной ветви

Подбор палитры масляных красок: холодная гамма и тёплый акцент

Список кистей с учетом всех текстур: пушистый снег, детальные перья, размытый фон

Мои личные заметки и советы: оттенки фона, передача воздуха, работа со светом

Чтобы получить подарочек, подпишитесь на меня до 23:59 12 февраля. Я пришлю материалы лично каждому 💭💌

После этой даты такой подробный разбор будет доступен только на моём Boosty

A selection of the oil paint palette I use for winter paintings

Save it so you don't lose it 🤍🧸

Titanium White

Produces a dense, pure light. Ideal for snowy spaces and cool highlights

Viridian Green

A cool, grayish-green hue. Perfect for pine needles under caps of white snow at dusk

Emerald Green

More saturated and warmer than viridian. Works great for pine branches during the day – it adds depth and contrast

Sky Blue

A pure, transparent blue. When mixed with white, it creates airy transitions and a frosty air

Ultramarine

A rich, cool violet undertone. Ideal for shadows on snow, evening blue hour, and deep twilight

Deep Violet

Added in small quantities to white, it creates a frosty glow. I use it for cool shadows and dawn reflections

Light Ochre

Adds warmth and coziness: village houses, tree bark, dry grass under snow

Natural Umber

A rich brown-gray. Indispensable for shadows, old fences, branches, and wooden structures

Mars Black

Winter always comes quietly... Sinking like animal tracks in the snowdrifts, lingering like crystals on branches and bark. And only the rustling of the snow breaks the silent breath of silence in the heart of the sleeping forest. And today I found myself there... Where the scent of pine needles and ancient wood fills... Where eternal cold and ice reign... Where the Chronicles of Narnia reign...

The world is born anew. Every moment, every hertz, every breath. It breathes, learns to walk and run... And doesn't ask whether you like it or not. It all starts over and over again, in a circle. The world is simply here. Inside. Around. And higher. Even higher... Beyond the Sun and the Galaxy, the Metagalaxy...

It simply is... Feel it. The inhalation and exhalation of white vapor against the backdrop of eternal stars. The shadow of falling leaves, snow, and silhouettes.

And it's hard to hold all this in your hands... But you can write it down... Let it all into the blank pages of a diary, still scented with the forest, nature, life...

It's hard to capture all this. But you can sketch on a cotton canvas, waiting for the first touch...

Graphite... Charcoal... Oil... All of it... Captured, tamed, filled with love... Transformed into frozen time in the hands of one who watches, observes, and creates.

Art... Is it in drawing a tree? Or in contemplating it until you yourself become roots, absorbing the cold of the earth, and branches, feeling the breath of eternity. The answer is simple... Practice. Love. Create... To the extreme... Until you capture the essence... And then – release it.

And then the energy will spill onto the snowy, pristine world, like fiery paints onto cotton canvas. To ignite a drop of warmth and spark a thousand lives among the intertwined cotton threads... What came before and what will come after...

And when the final brushstroke is applied, and the edge of the paper is dotted with handwritten notes, this entire wild, sunny, and earthly world appears on the canvas. It now lives in the interweaving of graphite and cotton threads, in layers of oil mixed with the dust of centuries. It breathes through the paper and canvas, a subtle tremor on the edge of perception. It feels people's gazes on it. It hears the beat of hearts. It remembers the warm touch of the hands of a man who, one winter day, decided to stop the falling leaves and snow...

🧣🌨️🛷

P.S. My birthday is coming up very soon, December 31st 🍰💌

You can send me a birthday gift here:

Cold.

The heart of nature beat quietly, afraid to break this sound... The whistle of waxwings and the crunch of snowflakes under my boots.

Warming my frozen hands, breathing hot steam onto my mittens, I searched for a place for my plein air. I walked through a field of thistle, covered in fresh, canvas-like snow.

When the very edge of the world appeared before me, my gaze slid to the merging of sky and earth, to the darkness of the forest and the snowdrifts at its foot.

I set my easel into the snow. Took out my brushes, oils, and paint cups. Made a warm underpainting and prepared to catch the sky. It touched the grey hair of the trees beyond the river, as if combing its locks. Its shades shifted in ashen iridescence, playing with my paints.

Following the clouds, my thoughts drifted far away, beyond the snow-dusted dust of centuries. To a place where the words "plein air" and "easel" had not yet been invented. To where grey eyes, wide with awe at the sight of this edge of the earth and this horizon, gazed upon new expanses. The first people, many centuries ago, came here, shivering from the cold. Did they see the same landscape? The same cold kissing their cheeks, the same waxwings, and the river's flow?

Did my distant ancestors once hunt in these places? Perhaps. And now, I make impasto strokes, hunting for the sky, to hide it within my oils.

𓋼𓍊 𓅪 𓍊𓋼𓍊

#polina_panova_art

December 7th. When the air is filled with the scent of coal smoke and autumn burned to the ashes of winter.

A moment when time slows down... Takes a breath and holds it for as long as possible. I feel this when I paint. With brushstrokes, oil, light - all this freezes the moment and allows me to see...

To see that forest, trembling to the tips of its leaves from the touch of frost. To see the thistle field, among which, in the dead wood, he flickered like a fiery spark... The little guardian of autumn - the fox.

This is his world. His forest and thistle field. While time holds still. "While autumn lasts."

𓋼𓍊 𓆈 𓍊𓋼𓍊