Let’s peek inside my studio. Apart from my dog Alice, sleeping beside my drawing table, you’ll see about a dozen old coffee cans bristling with brushes. I’m embarrassed to count them, so let’s not.
Why so many? Because I can’t bear to part with any of them, even if they’re no longer sharp or pointy or useful. A few of the mostly newish brushes, I use all the time. But others, decades old, I hold on to the way I hold on to memories. (Remember that Streisand line, “…misty water-coloured memories?”)
Today, I thought I’d share a few of those memories, along with advice on how to keep your beloved brushes — old and new — in good working order. You’ll find my tips at the end of this email.
Meanwhile, if you have a moment, let’s continue this tour of brushes and memories…
The Whitney Rotary
I often credit the late Edgar A. Whitney, my first great watercolour teacher, for his impact on how I think about and practice watercolour painting. But have I ever mentioned his wonky invention, the double-ended brush? It’s the Whitney Rotary, fitted with a flat and round brush at either end. I’m sure it’s a collector’s item, if you’re into that sort of thing.
I immediately bought a Whitney Rotary, back when I was a student. And in his “Complete Guide to Watercolor Painting,” Whitney lays out its benefits: “With water in one brush and color in the other, an edge can be treated or softened instantly by a flip of the hand, then back to the color-filled brush; this method is used as opposed to that of a stroke, shaking the brush clean in the water, softening the edge, then picking up more color with the brush.”
He then explains how to make your own Whitney Rotary. (If you’re interested, I’ll send you his instructions.)
Quarry, 30” x 22”, 1981
I don’t remember where this quarry was, but I do remember my early fascination with its sharp granite edges, deep pools and watery reflections. As I soon realized—especially when painting on a large sheet—time seems to stop and you get lost in the experience.
Halibut Point, 15” x 11”, 2014
A similar subject, done more than 30 years later. I experience the same sense of timelessness whenever I visit Halibut Point quarry in Massachusetts. It might be the subject: these masses of granite are millions of years old, which makes them, I suppose, a kind of frozen memory.
Langnickel 2-inch Combo flat
Say you’re painting on a large sheet and want to avoid getting into details too early. Then try using a brush that seems, at first glance, way too big. During my Whitney years, I used this 2-inch flat for most of my paintings. It holds gallons of water and covers acres of paper. And, as you can see below, it’s ideal for straight edges. Held perpendicular to the paper, it’s also great for narrow and calligraphic marks. This brush is showing its age but still performs well.
Gythio, Greece, 30” x 22”, 1988
I can’t believe that, all those years ago, I lugged full sheets of watercolour paper with me to Greece. But I did (I was young and reckless). My husband reminded me that I was sitting on a folding stool, facing Gythio harbour, and painting this full sheet with a 2-inch flat.
Chania Harbour, Greece, 15” x 11”, 2025
Even after so many years, I guess I’m attracted to the same subjects. In fact, I was shocked when I began digging into old paintings and discovered how similar this one is to the one above. I painted Chania Harbour with a flat brush as well, just not as wide.
Raphael Petit Gris Pur, #7
As a backpacking student on her first visit to Paris, I was on a strict budget. Except for one splurge. A Raphael petit gris pur squirrel mop brush, bought at the iconic Sennelier shop on Quai Voltaire (I ate baguette and cheese for several days after). I’m surprised I didn’t lose it on that three-month trip. Luckily, it followed me home and was a faithful travel companion for years. Today it looks a bit worse for wear, but never mind. It still feels fantastic in the hand, still loads up with paint and still gives me a great first wash. They sure don’t make ‘em like this anymore.
Maison Donohue Pots, 22” x 15”, 1988
This painting brings back a flood of memories. By some crazy good luck, my mom and I scored a week’s stay at the home of renowned painter Pierre Henry, in Charlevoix, Québec. We toured the region’s picturesque villages and spent time in La Malbaie, where we stopped at L’Auberge La Maison Donohue. That’s where I painted this little scene of flower pots.
Under the Tree in Autumn, 12” x 9”, 2012
I still love to paint potted flowers and plants, especially when the right shadows fall across the terracotta. I captured this tiny arrangement in my backyard after the first frost had hit my hosta.
Grumbacher Series 6143 Aquarelle, 1-inch flat
Paint and scrape, paint and scrape. That’s what a brush with an angled handle allows you to do. I can’t remember where this beauty came from, but it still feels like a million bucks when I paint with it. It holds lots of wash, is great for painting edges, and has the added bonus of that angled handle for scraping tree branches and other lines into wet paint.
Shoe Rack, 30” x 22”, 1991
In 1991, soon after the birth of our first son, I had a solo exhibition called “Housebound.” The subjects were intimate scenes from around the house—piles of laundry, a shirt waiting to be ironed, a worn leather bag, men’s shoes on a rack… With a young baby at home, I don’t know how I ever managed to paint them all. With lots of help from family, I guess. My Grumbacher flat came in handy for the edges on the worn leather and looping shoe rack.
Red Wings, 12” x 9”, 2021
Thirty years later, our first-born came home for a visit and left his boots by the door, no doubt in search of leftovers in the fridge. I remember liking the placement of the shoes so much that I dragged a chair into our powder room to paint them exactly as they had been kicked off.
Remember to take care of your brushes
Brushes are designed to hold water and pigment. But for me, they also hold memories. Maybe it’s because you hold a brush in your hand. It connects you to your paper and paint. And therefore to the images you make, to memories of the places you visit and events that surround you.
Here are a few tips for taking care of your watercolour brushes:
Always wash them right after painting. Even on location, I know that if I take them home dirty, I will inevitably get distracted and forget to clean them. So I always save clean water for washing my brushes.
Now and then, give them the salon treatment, with some gentle bar or liquid soap. I use a bar of Da Vinci brush soap, shampoo them gently, rinse well and leave them on a towel to dry.
Store properly in a dry place. Most of my brushes sit upright in my studio, with the really good sables going into a travel box, so I can find them easily.
Never leave your brushes standing in water. This could change their shape permanently. I know this seems like common sense, but I see it often in my workshops.
When traveling, protect them within a rigid sleeve or case to keep them from bending. I use a canvas brush sleeve like this.
If you own travel brushes, make sure the hairs don’t bend back as you slip the brush back in its sleeve. I dampen the hairs a bit and twist them into a spiral to keep this from happening.
And my final word, you don’t need coffee cans stuffed with brushes to sketch and paint. For years, all I used were a large flat, a round, a mop and a rigger. (Then, I must admit, things got out of hand.) But what was true then, is still true. A few brushes, well cared for, is all you need.
In my latest course, “Peaks & Valleys: Sketching Mountains in Watercolour” (if you’ve already bought it, thank you!), we spend a bit of time trying out several brush shapes to see which is best for our mountain subjects. (Spoiler alert: there’s more than one way to sketch a mountain!)
If you want to learn more about “Peaks and Valleys,” this is the week to do it. Normally priced at $49 USD or $69 CDN, I’m discounting “Peaks & Valleys: Sketching Mountains in Watercolour ” to $42 USD or $59 CDN until midnight (ET) on Sunday, November 16, 2025. And there’s no coupon required at checkout.
Thanks for reading.
P.S. In a day or two, I’ll be sending out a step-by-step—from drawing to finished painting—in which I try out one or more of the vintage brushes featured above. See you then!