How to Lighten and Stripe a Dark Purple Eco-Resin Dragon Belly

This little dragon started with a solid dark-purple belly. The finished look is lighter overall, with clean white-to-lavender stripes across the tummy and a bit of shine so it doesn’t look flat. You can do the same change on a painted eco-resin piece without stripping the whole figure.

What you need

• The painted eco-resin dragon (fully cured)
• Fine sandpaper (400–600 grit) or a sanding sponge
• Soft brush or damp cloth to wipe dust
• Acrylic paints: a pale mauve/lavender, a light magenta or soft white, and a tiny bit of metallic silver if you want the claws/horns to pop
• Small detail brush and a slightly wider flat brush
• Water cup and paper towel
• Optional: acrylic varnish (matte or satin) and a pearl or interference medium if you want the pearly glow from the second photo

Prep Wipe the dragon so it is clean and dry. Lightly scuff only the belly scales you plan to repaint. You are not trying to remove all the old colour—just give the new paint something to hold. Wipe the dust off.

Paint the base of the belly Mix a pale lavender (mauve pale plus a touch of white works well). Paint the whole belly in thin coats. Let each coat dry. Two or three thin coats beat one thick one on resin. Keep the edges neat where the belly meets the sides so you do not have to fix the rest of the dragon.

Add the stripes Once the pale base is dry, use a slightly darker purple or a clean white (depending on how strong you want the contrast). Follow the existing scale lines. A thin flat brush or a liner brush makes this easier. Paint every other scale band, or every second row, so you get even stripes. If a line wobbles, wait until it is dry and tidy it with the pale colour.

Details Touch up the claws and horn tips with a little silver if they look dull. Check the eyes and snout so they still read against the new belly. Let everything dry fully—acrylic on resin can feel dry on top while the layer underneath is still soft.

Seal A thin coat of acrylic varnish protects the new paint and evens the sheen. If you want that pearly, slightly translucent look, mix a drop of pearl medium into the last pale coat or into the varnish. Do not flood the details.

 

Tips that save a redo

• Thin paint. Thick paint hides scale texture.
• Work in good light so the stripe edges stay crisp.
• If you hate a stripe, sand that band lightly and paint it again. Eco-resin can take a gentle scuff.
• The frog-on-the-toilet in the workbench photo is optional. The dragon is not.

That is the whole change: scuff, pale base, stripes along the scales, seal. The before is the dark solid belly. The after is the striped one sitting on the table with the paint tubes still open.

Sometimes the Best Remedy Is a Pair of Dancing Boots

Let's Dance 

This past weekend in Okotoks, the Chinook Country Line Dancers took the stage at the Chilli Fest and reminded everyone how good it feels to move to a simple beat under an open sky.

No fancy choreography required—just a group of people stepping, turning, and smiling together while the rest of the festival carried on around them. Watching it is pure, uncomplicated joy.

In a world that constantly pulls us toward screens and endless scrolling, moments like this are a quiet invitation: step outside, find something lively, and let yourself enjoy it. Whether it’s line dancing, a local festival, a walk, or simply standing still long enough to notice the weather, getting out into the real world has a way of lifting the weight that online noise can pile on.

The short clip of the dancers is linked below. Watch it, smile a little, and then maybe go find your own small reason to step away from the screen today.

Do Art! (And Finish What’s on the Go)

 Hey All You Artsy People,

Welcome back to the website, how to do what? Who knows right, just how to breathe somedays! Today’s post is a little peek into my current art corner and a gentle reminder I needed to hear myself.

Here’s the workspace right now: brushes standing tall like a forest, bottles of Liquitex gloss varnish, DecoArt metallics, acrylics in every colour, and a few pieces I’ve been working on. Front and centre is the skull—nearly finished, with its soft pastel washes and that rosy jaw. Beside it sits a shiny coppery-pink owl, a little blue mushroom house, a clear resin sphere filled with dried flowers and citrus slices, and a couple of other experiments still finding their way.

I made all of these. The skull is so close I can almost call it done. The others? Honestly, I’m not sure what their final story will be yet. And that’s okay.

Somewhere along the way I saw a sign (wish I could remember the exact wording) that said something like: “I’m not a hoarder of art supplies… I’m a collector of what I may need in the future.” That hit home. The shelves are full, the brushes are waiting, and the paints are ready—but right now my focus is on finishing the projects already started. Once those are complete, the door opens for brand-new ideas.

Over the years I’ve learned so much through simply showing up and making. Some days it feels like you haven’t progressed at all… and then you look back and realize how far the quiet practice has carried you.

So if you’re doubting yourself, keep going. Find the peace you’re seeking and let it develop from there. The supplies will wait. The ideas will wait. Just do the art that’s in front of you today.

Moral of the story?
Do Art!

What are you working on right now? Any nearly-finished pieces sitting on your desk, or a favourite “collector, not hoarder” quote of your own? I’d love to hear about it in the comments.

Happy creating,
Helen of How To Just BE
#DoArt #ArtStudio #FinishWhatYouStart #HelenHowTo

Two Beauties from Pioneer Acres

More Treasures from Pioneer Acres 

 

The Irricana Pioneer Acres Museum Annual Event is always a highlight, and this year was no exception. Steam engines may take centre stage, but the grounds are full of other gems that stop you in your tracks.

One of the most impressive is the big white farmhouse that sits quietly on the property. That classic two-storey home was not built here — it was carefully moved onto the site. The original family donated it when they decided to build a modern house. The museum arranged the entire move, preserving a traditional prairie home with its large rooms, generous dining space, and solid old-style construction.

Step inside and the dining room is set as if company is expected any minute. A long oval table covered in a gold cloth holds a full formal place setting of white china, cups, bowls, and serving dishes. Dark wooden chairs, lace curtains, a china cabinet, and soft natural light complete the scene. It’s easy to picture family dinners, Sunday roasts, and conversations that stretched long into the evening in a house that once had plenty of room for everyone.

Out on the open grass, that same house provides the perfect backdrop for a sharp red vintage dump truck — solid tires, open cab, and the big tilting box ready for work. Both the truck and the house sit together on museum property, two different chapters of Alberta’s working past side by side.

Add in the ornate McClary cook-stove we also admired, which sits inside the house, and you start to feel the full picture of pioneer life: the practical machines that built the land, the solid homes that sheltered families, and the well-made household pieces that made daily living a little more comfortable.

Pioneer Acres does an outstanding job of keeping these stories alive. If you get the chance to visit, take time to walk through the house, sit for a moment in that dining room, and imagine the lives that once filled it.

More than Just a Jump with a Motorcycle

More Than a Jump

At first glance, the photo is simply thrilling: a rider soars high above a dirt track, motorcycle angled perfectly against the open sky. Behind him rises the familiar skyline of Calgary, the Canadian flag fluttering nearby. It is a striking image of skill and motion.

But look longer, and the picture begins to open the mind.

What we see is the result of years that the camera cannot capture. Countless early mornings on the track. Repeated falls into hard-packed dirt. Bruises, sprains, the sharp sting of failure, the quiet decision to get back on the bike anyway. Mastery is never sudden. It is built one careful practice run, one recovered injury, one stubborn return at a time.

The rider in the air has already paid that price. The jump looks effortless only because the effort came earlier—out of sight, away from the lens. The city in the background reminds us that ordinary life continues while extraordinary focus is happening just a few kilometres away.

Photographs often hold more than we notice at first. They freeze a single second of triumph, yet they quietly point to the long, unseen road that made that second possible. The next time a picture stops you, pause. Wonder about the practice, the tumbles, the quiet courage that brought the subject to that exact moment.

Sometimes the real story is not what is shown, but everything that had to happen before the shutter clicked.

How to Explore and Appreciate the Past

Sometimes history feels like a distant textbook story—until you stand in front of the real thing. This short video takes us to an abandoned house on the southern Alberta prairie, part of a quiet ghost-town search. Weathered wood, broken windows, and a lone dead tree tell a story of hope, hard work, and eventual departure that no written account can fully capture.

Visiting places like this changes the picture. You start to wonder who lived here, what the winters felt like, and why the town faded. The details—creaking floors, prairie wind through empty rooms, the vast empty fields—turn abstract history into something personal and alive.

That is the simple “how-to”: go look for yourself. Step away from screens, walk the old roads, and let the remnants speak. The past becomes clearer, richer, and far more human once you experience even a small piece of it firsthand.

Watch the video here:

Create Art as Your Heart Decides

This little skull was never meant to follow a trend.

I poured it in eco resin, chose every colour myself, painted the bone tones and soft pinks by hand, and gave him a pair of golden cat-like eyes that stare right back at you. Not to make him spooky or macabre. Just to give him life. I want my creatures to be able to see. I want them to have character. I want them to feel like they could sit on a shelf and quietly watch the world go by with a bit of personality of their own.

He isn’t perfect. He isn’t trying to be. He is simply what happened when I stopped asking what “they” are making this week and started listening to what I actually wanted to make.

Sometimes the loudest advice floating around is to copy whatever is currently popular, to match the colour palette the algorithm is rewarding, to produce the same shape the crowd is already sharing. I understand the temptation. But I keep coming back to a quieter truth: create as your heart decides. Not because someone said it was trending. Not because the mob has already decided what “good” looks like this month. Create from you, for the betterment of you.

When the work comes from that place, something shifts. You stop measuring yourself against strangers online and start measuring the piece against your own satisfaction. Does it make you smile when you look at it? Does it feel like it belongs to the person you actually are? If the answer is yes, then it has already succeeded—long before anyone else ever sees it.

This skull is one of those pieces for me. I like him. The soft peach of the bone, the white of the teeth and the brain-like ridges, the unexpected brightness of those feline eyes. He sits there looking slightly amused, slightly curious, completely himself. And that is enough.

So if you are standing in front of your own materials right now, wondering whether your idea is “on trend” or “too different,” I offer the same quiet permission I give myself:

Don’t be one of the crowd.
Allow yourself to be unique unto yourself.

Make the thing that only you would make. Give it eyes if it needs eyes. Choose the colours that feel right in your hands. Let it come to life in whatever way your heart decides.

The rest will take care of itself. Below you will see my other little friend, I nearly typed fiend, but look at him, he looks kind of happy, doesn't look mean, not really a fiend.  The fellow at the top of this page, I would be more worried about him, if we are going supernatural. 😁 🖖