Packing Watercolors for the Coast: A Lightweight Kit That Actually Works

Every travel painter eventually develops a kit, and every kit is a compromise. Too much and you stop bringing it out. Too little and you spend the whole trip wishing you had a different brush. After years of overpacking and then overcorrecting, I've landed on a setup that fits in a single small pouch and weighs less than a paperback. It's not ideal for every situation, but it's good enough for almost all of them, and that's the point. The best kit is the one you actually use, not the one that theoretically covers every scenario.

Here's what's in mine. A small metal tin of half pans — twelve colors, no more. I used to carry twenty-four and found that I only ever reached for about eight. The tin doubles as a mixing palette. A single round brush, size 10, with a good point. One brush is enough if you learn to use the point for details and the belly for washes. A small water brush for when I don't want to deal with a jar. A pocket-sized sketchbook with paper heavy enough to take a wash without buckling — 200 gsm minimum. A rag cut from an old t-shirt. That's it. Everything else is optional.

Painting on the Beach Without Losing Your Mind

Sand is the enemy. It gets into everything, and once it's in your palette it never leaves. I bring a small mat or a piece of cardboard to set my kit on, and I never open the tin directly over the ground. Wind is the other problem. A single gust can flip a page or send a half pan skittering into the surf. Clips or a hardboard backing solve the page issue; for the pans, I've learned to keep the tin closed between colors. It slows me down, which is fine. Slowness is part of the point.

What to Leave at Home

Leave the big palette. Leave the tubes. Leave the easel, the folding stool, the full set of brushes. Leave anything you'd be sad to lose, because you probably will lose it — or at least worry about losing it, which is almost as bad. The coast is a place for small, quick, imperfect work. A single brush and a dozen colors will get you further than you think. If you find yourself somewhere and wish you had more, that's a good sign. It means you're paying attention. The constraint is part of the practice.