This column isn’t about a specific art technique or craft project, but it is about art just the same - the art of living well.

The Japanese make an entire ceremony of serving tea - with much attention paid to each gesture and detail. There are great lessons in such things, not the least of which is that immense pleasure can be taken in the smallest details, if we just stop and really notice them.

Having skipped it in the theaters because of its length and sad ending, I finally rented “The English Patient” one evening and settled down, ready to see what all the great reviews had been about.

Perhaps I am the only person who had this reaction, but I think not - the best part of the whole movie for me was watching that loaded watercolor brush meandering across paper during the opening credits. It went on and on forever it seemed, and I was mesmerized by the sheer poetry of such a simple act.

Though I had been performing those brushstrokes through a lifetime of watercolor painting, I had never experienced them quite that way - so close up! Like Georgia O’Keeffe said about her flower paintings, “I’ll paint what I see - what the flower is to me, but I’ll paint it big and they will be surprised into taking the time to look at it.” And I thought about the many things we could “paint big” so we could really notice them.

The colors in their palette are already magical, but I went out anyway to find the most perfect palettes to arrange both my tube and pan colors. I did have to accept, however, that palettes are not always neat!!

My red sable brushes are no longer the luxurious things they once were when I lived in a place with humidity, so I switched to a set of high quality synthetics and bought the whole set with matching handles - they are beautiful all laid out together - and keep their perfect shape - even here in the high, dry air.

Arches watercolor has always been my paper of choice - 300lb Cold Press - an incredibly rich and luxurious sheet - already the best it can be. So I couldn’t really improve things there.

But, the life force of watercolor painting is water, and to date, it had not received the respect it deserved in my studio.

My usual scenario involved “whatever is available” containers and messy was the order of the day. The scene you see at the right is functional but less than inspiring.

The thoughts of a Japanese Tea Ceremony came back. I had collected Saki sets for years because I love the glazes used, and I realized they would be perfect as water containers for painting. The carafe (sometimes there were two in a set) would be the source of clean water and the little cups would hold the perfect amount of painting water for each color family. I also found a chopstick rest to use as a brush rest, and the setting was perfect. The paper towels are not that great, but are required just the same, and I haven’t found a brand or pattern that I think is special yet, so I just stuck with pure white for the time being. They are usually in my lap anyway and not really part of the “scene”.

Did it make the painting experience more special? It sure did! And I found that I was paying attention to each step as I never had before - really enjoying the pouring of the water, the mixing of the water with the paint, the loading of the brush, and especially the flow of the color onto paper.

And I have other precious things - which like good precious things everywhere, spend their time being safe in a cupboard. One of those things is a collection of Russel Wright American Modern dinnerware. For those who are not familiar, Russel Wright was a Depression era designer who wanted every home to be filled with objects of beauty - so he designed artful and wonderful houesehold items that sold very inexpensively (then, not now!). How much better would it be to use and enjoy those pieces while creating my own artwork? I tried it. And it was.