Brook & Bramble Art

Indigo got its chance, and this time it behaved impeccably.

I don’t like this one. I love it. Which feels slightly dangerous to admit, given how easily that feeling can turn on me, but I’m standing by it. This was a leap *** a double-page leap *** and if it hadn’t worked, I would have felt it every time I opened the sketchbook. There’s no quietly turning past a spread like this and pretending it never happened.

But it did work. Largely. Beautifully, in places.

The indigo settles exactly how I hoped it would: deep without being heavy, textured without shouting. It gives the scene weight and atmosphere, the kind that makes the yellow windows feel warm rather than merely bright. The snow sits where it should. The buildings hold together across the gutter without collapsing into two separate ideas. That alone feels like a small miracle.

Of course, it isn’t flawless. The fairy lights didn’t quite glow in the way I imagined, more decorative than luminous, and there are shadows that raise an eyebrow if you stare too long. But they don’t derail the whole thing. They’re footnotes, not headlines.

What matters is that the risk paid off. The composition stretches comfortably across the pages instead of fighting the format. The colour choices support each other. The mood arrives intact. I didn’t overwork it out of fear, and I didn’t abandon it at the first wobble. I stayed with it.

There’s something quietly affirming about that. Not just that the painting worked, but that I trusted myself enough to try it at all. Double pages used to feel like invitations to fail publicly. This one feels like evidence that I’m learning when to push and when to let things be.

So yes, I love this one.
Even with its imperfect lights and questionable shadows.
Especially because of them.

Sometimes the bold choices land. Sometimes indigo shows up exactly how you need it to. And sometimes, very occasionally, a risk turns into something you’re genuinely glad you took.