I never use black paint. Don’t even have it in my palette, I removed it years ago when it became apparent that it had never been touched.
It’s not that uncommon amongst artists, and the reason is that in nature, nothing is truly black. It’s that simple. A shadow might look black but on closer inspection it’ll turn out to be a deep purple, or blue, reflecting the colours around it. I’m not precious about it and if I find a use for the colour then I’ll dig the old tube out of my stash, but at the moment I’m happy enough finding those gorgeous deep hues to replace it.
But hang on, what about the ink? I use black india ink all the time. Nothing could be more purely black than that stuff, especially if you accidentally get it on your fingers and it takes days to come off. So if black watercolour paint doesn’t appear in my pictures, why is there so much black ink?
Bowl of tomatoes, watercolour and india ink
Because I love it. I love the fact it doesn’t come off. I love the bold ragged sweeping shapes it makes when I’m working with a dip pen. You can only control it up to a point and then it’s in the lap of the gods - I’ve had to throw away plenty of paintings before paint even got near them because the ink decided to make a massive splodge somewhere on the paper. Sometimes you just have to shrug and accept it wasn’t meant to be.
I love the little square-based bottles of ink, and I love the fact that once it is dry, absolutely nothing will make it budge - sloshing watercolour over it safe in the knowledge that the bones of the picture are safe.
It acts as a counterpoint - stability and permanence - against the wild and haphazard drifts of colour I like to use. They are transparent - it is utterly opaque.
When I was a child in school, I loved ink even then. I was the proud owner of a fountain pen that drove my teachers to despair because I am left handed. So everything I wrote, I then dragged my hand over leaving illegible smudging. I persevered and eventually found a way to angle my hand and the pen on the paper that worked for me and it’s been how I write ever since.
What about when I am painting outdoors? Taking a pot of ink with me to the beach or on a hike would be asking for disaster so instead I pack a set of ink substitutes - chunky chisel-tipped permanent markers, crayons and fineliner pens.
If you’ve never used ink I encourage you to give it a go, it is marvellous stuff. After all, human beings have been making it for the last three millenia - as art materials go, that’s about as permanent as it gets.