I won't lie. I play favorites when it comes to paint, and acrylics are my favorite. They're bold and opaque. They're thick-- they stay put. What you see is what you get. There is no guessing game involved. The colors don't bleed. They don't encounter one another unless the painter commands it. There is control. There is division. Sometimes, division is good. It's safe. It's comfortable.
I haven't created much with watercolors since I took an art class in college. Even then, it was a requirement, and I did it begrudgingly, if anything. My painting turned out looking like a muddy mess. The colors mixed to form dirty browns and swampy greens. I had begun with bright yellows and pretty purples. My intentions were pleasant. How quickly things went sour.
My grade reflected the outcome, and not the effort. I didn't trust the paint. I still don't, but I want to try again. I want to change my mind. I want to learn to be comfortable inside of my identity as an artist when the lines start blurring.