Thanks to everybody for your suggestions. Part of me still thinks "Tis done". I may lengthen the roots a bit more with a rigger as suggested by Patty and Fookie--and then let it sit for a couple more days. I'll also drop by Curry's and pick up some clear acetate or try some stuff on scrap paper.
As for the workshop, it was at Studio Six
here in Markham (I've taken a few workshops there and it's a terrific place--the room is large and the store owners take really good care of the students). And the instructor was Gary Chapman; his older website is here
if you'd like to see some of his works--it's mainly wet-in-wet landscapes and it was a joy to learn some of his techniques--I have another, more "conventional" one that I'll post later tonight.
This one was done with a technique that Gary calls "sponge and syrige". We took a large
sea sponge (about the size of a large grapefruit) that was soaked (and I mean REALLY soaked) and rolled it quickly across the paper leaving separated puddles. We shook the paper so the puddle would spread a bit and connect. Then, we mixed up some paint in about a 10:1 or 8:1 mixture (water to paint), sucked it into a large syrige (Gary gets them from his dentist, but they looked similar to ones that I've seen for cleaning large buildups of earwax (ewww)) and then dropped the paint, one colour at a time, into the puddles, and let it mix on the paper. We also moved and turned and tilted the paper to allow mixing.
During the process, he sometimes adds a few straighter lines with a rigger or small flat brush.
Gary uses this technique to do some interesting swamp or forest pictures and as "artistic break/refresher" from doing his more "conventional" landscapes.
This one used French Ultra, Burnt Sienna and aureolin. After I swirled things about, I looked at it and said "Holy heck! It's a tree!" so I added the trunk and the branches, and voila!.
It's times like that that keep me painting, when the magic occurs and something jumps out of the paper.
Gotta run--going to my SIL's for Mother's Day. BBL.