All cakes are not created equal!

I had a very productive week in the studio, and am finding my feet with the figurative paintings. I am still very much at the experimental phase, but am slowly discovering the kind of paintings I want to make.

Here are two of the paintings I did this week. I like them both, however, the one on the right has an underpainting that I made with the sea, and I think it adds a greater sense of dynamism. I definitely think a dynamic underpainting is the way forward. I don’t like figurative paintings that look too finished or realistic, except for the eyes.

The main focus of the course at the moment is the research paper we each have to write. I haven’t got much further than a vague notion of a topic, death. So far I have been looking into memento mori (a medieval artistic convention designed to remind people they will die), memorial art (which is right up my alley artistically), or ars moriendi (a medieval instruction book on how to die). Not very cheery, true, but death is a topic I am very interested in, both as a painter and a mortal. I will to have to pick a lane soon, as we have 1,000 word overview due next week.

I actually had a dream last night about doing my research paper on the Ars Moriendi. The book is from the mid-15th century, and instructed a person in how to have a “good death”, which basically consisted of letting a group of angels and demons battle it out for your soul on your deathbed, in the hope that your soul (which was depicted as a mini-you that popped out your mouth when you died) got to go with the good guys. The likelihood of that happening depended on answering a series of questions. Didn’t get the questions answered in time? Sorry, that’s eternal damnation for you! The book was wildly popular throughout Europe, and peasant and king alike were subject to its teaching.

One of the woodcuts from the Ars Moriendi.

My sister was on the Island for a few days, which was lovely. We had a family bbq at Anam Cara on the Sunday, and I showed them the Ann painting. It made my tender-hearted sister cry, which was either a sign that the painting is beautiful, or the Eurovision hoolie at my brother’s the night before was too much for her. My fella did me proud and didn’t burn the sausages, and made the most glorious Victoria sponge, which almost made me cry. Below is the only photo we have of the whole event, but to be honest, I reckon its the thing we’ll all remember the most. It was a damn good cake!

Thankfully, we did manage to get some photos of us all when the gang popped out later in the week. We had a lovely time just sitting there chatting, and marvelled at the fact that we were still sitting there chatting after all these years.

My fella is in Rotterdam for work this week and I miss him terribly, not just for his cake baking abilities. Though, it would be reason enough, as I had a go at a Victoria sponge and I don’t know what kind of WI witchery he used in his, but mine came out flat as a pancake. Still, the jam and icing has made it edible.

Birds of a feather

It was another good week in the studio. For most of it I carried on with the seawater paintings, which was very enjoyable. However, I took a break from them on the weekend and returned to the figurative paintings.

I still feel like I am a long way from figuring out what kind of paintings I want them to be, so I think the best thing I can do in the meantime is to keep experimenting. It’s like the big little-man said:

Inspiration does exist, but it must find you working.

Pablo Picasso

To that end, I’ve been noodling around with some small paintings to see what might pop out. It turns out, an owl and a pussy cat!

The most important thing I can do to achieve my goal for these figurative paintings, is draw, which I am still doing every day. This week I drew birds, and I have say, they are my favourite thing to draw so far.

Drawing in general still has the sense of an arduous task about it, but drawing birds brings it close to pure enjoyment. They are such delightful creatures, and have so much character.

By way of demonstration, when I was drawing birds outside on Thursday, one left a little gift on my page, which I took to be a very good sign indeed!

While on the subject of birds, I thought I’d share The Wisdom Daily video I made this week, until I remembered I made it about a fish not a bird. But it’s such an amazing fish, I may as well share it anyway.

Bubble bubble toil and trouble

All and all it has been a good week in the studio. I continued with the sea paintings, and ranged far and wide with my experiments, with various degrees of success. One element that kept cropping up was bubbles. That’s because I have been learning about them and watching them.

Sea foam is made up of bubbles, and they are what helps the sea breathe. The sound a wave makes when it crashes is the sound of the individual bubbles being formed, and the tone of each bubble tells you what size it is. I think this fascinating, mysterious, and beautiful, and I love watching them come in and out of existence.

I have been thinking a lot about the power of the sea, something that is inescapable when you live so close to it. I came across a beautiful photo that demonstrates just how powerful it is. It was taken by renowned Manx photographer, Chris Killip, in the early 1970’s, and shows a house being taken by the sea at Cranstal, Bride (the same stretch of coast I live on). I think it is a sobering and romantic image.

For me, it is a memento mori (Latin: remember you shall die), which was a type of medieval painting that depicted various objects that reminded people they will one day die – such as skulls, hourglasses, rotting fruit, wilting flowers and, of course, bubbles. I think Killip’s photograph is an especially poignant memento mori in this day and age, with global warming and the predicted rise in sea levels etc., making coastal erosion and its attendant destruction a present and coming reality. As with sea related disasters, such as tidal waves, death can come upon a person suddenly with little or no warning, but for most, as with coastal erosion, death creeps upon us slowly, diminishing our life force a little at a time, until there is nothing left. It may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I think it’s worth bearing that in mind.

In other news, I continued drawing chairs this week. My favourite to draw are white-plastic lawn chairs. They are tricky to get the knack of, but I really love them for some reason. I have certainly sat in my fair share of them.

Painting with my soul-friend

It was a beautiful day on Friday, so I decided to spend the afternoon painting with the sea. Similar to the rain paintings from term 1, I put blobs of paint on various pieces of paper and canvas, and then then let the sea swish it about. I then painted and drew into the marks left by the sea. The results so far have been really promising, and I am keen to experiment some more with this method.

The reason I was able to paint with the sea, is I am now the proud owner of the most marvellous art-supply trolley (courtesy of my fella), that I can fill with everything I need and wheel outside nearer the sea, which saves me wandering inside to the studio every 5 minutes.

I attended an excellent workshop (notes below) this week, called “Joy Division into Research into Practice” with Clem Crosby. It explored a creative and organic way to approach research, sort of following a line of thought and being free to see where it takes you. I’m so glad I did the workshop, as I have been struggling to find a topic for my research paper, and it gave me an alternative way to approach my dilemma. I shall apply what I learned and hopefully come up with a good topic.

Also this week, instead of drawing horses, I have been drawing chairs. They are very enjoyable to draw, though some are obviously easier to draw than others. I love the aesthetic of chairs, and think they are very satisfying things to look at. I could go on and on about them, but I think it best I eke out my chair babble over the coming weeks, so as not to bore anyone rigid.

As well as drawing chairs, I have also been painting them (as below).

All in all, it was a very productive week painting-wise. It is amazing how much more time I have now that I have finished the Ann painting. Hopefully, with this extra time, I’ll be able to really develop the paintings for the Confluence project. Oh yes, and it was my birthday this week. It looked set to be one of those middle of the week, non-descript ones, but with a few visits from friends and family, some beautiful, thoughtful gifts, and my friend’s first chick of the year being born on the same day (to be named Rebecca, but it was a boy, so they named it Geoff) it turned out to be one of the loveliest I’ve ever had.

It is finished!

I finished the Ann painting this week. The last section was quite fiddly and intense to paint, and it was a sweet relief when it was over. I didn’t even stand back and look at it afterwards, I just pushed it in the corner of the studio, facing the wall, so it can dry. Once it has, I will look at it with fresh eyes. I will also have an open-studio, so friends and family can come and see it. I especially look forward to showing my mum, as I feel the painting has a special connection to her. As I mentioned before, not only has she been helping me with the research for Ann Thompson’s story, but her middle and maiden name are also Ann Thompson, which I think is very special.

There’s always a bit of an anti-climax when I finish a big, labour intensive painting like that, and I tend to feel a little bit lost, in terms of what to do next. To keep up the momentum of my art practice, I make sure I keep my 3 daily painting sessions. Since finishing the Ann painting, I’ve been playing with old paintings that were never really resolved, working on what might possibly be my next big painting, and painting horses.

It’s enjoyable just playing and experimenting, but very soon I will have to focus on my MA project about water. I will also have to start looking at the other artworks I want to make to go with the Ann painting, particularly the film, as well as consolidate the research into Ann’s story, and see where the holes are, and where further research is required. There’s a lot to do, but for the next few days, I think I’ll just play.

I had a couple of workshops this week. One was about socially engaged art, with David McGovern, which I found really informative and interesting. The other was one our whole class did together, called “Emerging dialogues through textile and visual arrangements” with Sukie Sagoo-Reddy. It was actually a workshop I had done last term, even so, it was enjoyable and inspiring to do again, especially with all my classmates. My favourite task was called “chasing shadows”, where we were asked to create a piece of work that involved shadows. I decided to arrange and photograph the shadows cast by these beautiful glass ornaments made by a lovely friend of mine. I love how glass effectively casts coloured shadows.

Anam Cara (where I live) has been exceptionally beautiful this week, and my new favourite thing is to sit on the front lawn, facing the sea, and do the readings for my research paper. To be honest, I spend most of the time just looking at the sea (keeping an eye out for Fonzi of course), or closing my eyes to heighten the sensation of being in such an exhilarating place.

Another glorious groundhog week

I could copy and paste my last post, as this week my day to day life pretty much followed the same routine. There was painting, horse drawing, seal watching, massaging, and fella loving.

There was also a few anomalies, like how beautiful the weather was on Friday. It gave me a taste of what summer will be like out here at Anam Cara. Mum popped out in the morning and agreed that the summer here will be glorious, and picked a spot for her and Dad to sit and watch the sea.

When it’s sunny, the studio is filled with beautiful diffused light, making it a pleasure to work in. Even so, Friday was so lovely, I finished my afternoon Ann-paint early and sat outside and drew horses, which was heavenly.

The course starts again this coming Tuesday. It will be lovely to catch up with everyone, and get stuck into my water project again. Once I have finished the Ann painting (hopefully by the end of the week), I’ll be able to devote most of my time to it, so hopefully there’ll be more progress this term.

“We Are What We Repeatedly Do” – Aristotle

I can’t believe it’s been over two weeks since I was in London. I even had to look at my diary to make sure I was counting right. I think the problem with my time perception at the moment is I had a bit of a groundhog week, in that it was almost exactly the same as the week before. Added to which, almost every day followed the same routine:

Yoga

I typically start my day with yoga. It’s sounds super healthy and together, but in reality the max I do is 15 minutes. Still, I’m always very grateful to myself when I have done it, and definitely feel better for it.

Drawing horses

I kept up my 20 minute drawing exercise this week, and continued with drawing horses. They are so much fun to draw, and though I don’t seem to have improved much, I have definitely loosened up. Also, drawing them has made me love the horses next door even more. My favourite is a Clydesdale that I call Mr Rogers, on account of him being so friendly – he came to the fence twice this week and had a wee chat with me.

Mr Rogers

Painting

Painting the Ann painting has been my main focus this week, which has been as wonderful and nerve-wracking as usual. I had another stress dream this morning that it got smudged. It was by a person that I really like, so I didn’t yell at them, but I did tell them that they’d have to leave. When I have one of these dreams, the sense of stress and blind fury I feel makes it difficult to speak, and is so intense that it generally wakes me up. The only upside to such a dream is the relief I feel when I fully come-to and realise the painting is alright.

Looking for Fonzi

Usually when I finish my morning paint I’ll go out looking for Fonzi. I’m ridiculously happy when I see him. If I don’t, I content myself with looking at the sea and saying hello to Mr Rogers.

Massaging

Sunday to Thursday, I tend have a morning massage appointment. I’ve had my homebased massage business for about 6 years now, and have a lovely assortment of regular clients. Becoming a Massage Therapist is one of the best decisions I have ever made, not only is it a great thing to do for someone else, but it is the perfect compliment to being an artist.

Painting

My afternoon paint tends to be the longest of the 3, and for some reason the most relaxed. I like to have a clear four hours to play with, which gives me both time to paint and research things that come to mind.

Looking for Fonzi

Since Spring has sprung, I am able to go looking for Fonzi after my afternoon paint as well. I saw him a few times this week, but no land-bound sighting compared to the drone footage my fella got of him yesterday. Look how handsome he is (and his friend is pretty cute too)!

Massaging

As well as a morning massage, I tend to have an early evening one too, which is handy for those clients that have to work during the day. When I first started my business, I used to advertise for clients by running adverts on Facebook (like the one below), now it ticks along nicely with returning clients and word of mouth.

A visit from my fella (if I’m lucky)

My fella wasn’t able to come out every evening this week, but it was certainly splendid when he did. As usual, we had fun catching up on each other’s newses – his was generally more exciting than mine, considering mine consisted of “I saw Fonzi and said hello to Mr Rogers”.

Painting

My evenings this week were spent painting the Ann painting. I’m so close to finishing that I am literally counting the days – I reckon 10 if I keep going at my current pace. My evening paint tends to be the shortest of the 3, though still a minimum of two hours.

Bed

I absolutely love going to bed, and am usually in a hurry to get there, which is why my evening paint session tends to be the shortest. I really like my current bed – true, it’s no dead-lady-bed, but still, its super comfortable and a pleasure to sleep in. I don’t always sleep the whole night through, but if I wake up I just read my book or research things on my phone (ahem…watch cat videos) so I never really mind. Plus, if it’s after 4am, I usually just get up and paint – the wee hours being my favourite time to do so.

So there we have it, my current routine. If Aristotle is right, I guess that means I am yoga doing, seal watching, horse drawing, massage giving, fella loving, bed indulging painter!

My fella has a rover eye

If I’m out with my fella and he does a double-take, I don’t have to look around to confirm my suspicions. I can tell by the goofy look on his face that he’s spotted a dog. It’s like he has a special dog-radar. If one is in the vicinity – even crouched down in a car or hiding under a bush – he’ll spot it. I am regularly reminded that the only thing he loves more than dogs is me. It’s true that if the house was on fire and it was me or the dog, he’d rescue me first, but, you can guarantee, he’d then risk his life to go back in and rescue the dog. That’s the kind of dog-loving fella he is.

We reached the grand milestone of four years together yesterday. I completely forgot, until he turned up at the studio with two bunches of flowers. That wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t forgotten Valentine’s Day as well. To be precise, I forgot to get him anything, while he surprised me with three lovely presents from a gift shop in town, and a dinner at the local pub.

My Valentine

To make amends, I bought him a belated gift. For future refence: an after-the-fact Amazon gift that you also bought two Valentines ago is bad! Luckily it was a Star Wars t-shirt, which seemed to soften the blow. The upshot is, he’s completely amazing when it comes to rescuing and romance, and I should live on my own with a cat.

I wish I could say that I’ve made great progress on the green paintings. But the truth is, I’ve mixed a bit of paint here and there, producing greens I neither like nor want to use, and that’s about it. Instead, I’ve been spending most of my time on the Ann painting, and I’m not even sorry. The home-stretch of a painting like Ann is an unmitigated pleasure, and I am savouring every moment. I was secretly hoping to have it finished before I go to London next week. But even if I worked on it all day and night, it still wouldn’t be finished. Besides, it would be reckless to try and rush it at this stage, as that is how mistakes are made.

As pleasurable as painting Ann is, it is also really nerve wracking, especially at this late stage. There’s no fixing a delicate, pristine painting like this, so damaging it is some way would be heart-breaking, not just because of the labour involved, but for the painting itself. Like a mother hen, I think all my chicks are beautiful, but Ann, she is beautiful and then some.

I love a good workshop

One of the great things about my MFA course is the variety of workshops that are on offer. I took part in 3 this week, all of which were brilliant. The first two were textile based, and the 3rd, photography. Although my practice is primarily focused on painting, it can be helpful to branch out now and then, as it tends to be easier to loosen up and be more expressive in disciplines you are not so familiar with. The new inspiration you gain from this process can then feed back into your preferred/more practiced discipline.

The first workshop was called ‘Sustainability through textiles‘, which explored the relationship between sustainability and our art practice, specifically in relationship to our masters project. This was perfect for me, as my masters project, about water, naturally has a sustainability aspect. Through a variety of creative/making exercises, we were asked to consider our experience, values, and attitudes towards sustainability.

Below are some things I made during the workshop:

At the end of the workshop, we were asked to consider future actions we might take in our creative practice that demonstrated our values towards sustainability. I concluded that the best thing I could do is pick up the rubbish on the isolated stretch of beach in front of my house, that the sea kindly delivers every hightide. Hardly anyone walks on the beach but me, so I figure it’s my responsibility to keep it rubbish free. Sure I can still creatively express my values if I want, but to do that without picking up the rubbish shows I have no real values at all.

The second workshop was called ‘Emerging dialogues through the positioning of textile and visual arrangements‘. I’m not really sure what that means, but I had a great time. I happened to be the only person taking the workshop, so it was more informal and interactive than usual. I was able to discuss both my water and Ann projects with the tutor, and her feedback was very helpful. I also did all the exercises she’d planned for the class, all of which I found challenging, inspiring, and enjoyable.

Here is one of the things I made (the thing itself is a little naff.. but I do like the photo):

The third workshop was called ‘Finding inspiration: exploring photography through movement‘. I really loved this one. Rather than teaching photography techniques per se, it was more focused on finding ways to access your own creativity. It followed the same structure as the textile workshops, that of instruction, creating/making, and class participation. I found it genuinely inspiring, and will be able to use what I learned, not only to take more interesting photos, but also in my painting practice.

Our main task for the workshop was to take a series of photos of ourselves while moving about. My favourite is the photo below. Even though I was moving when it was taken (as evidenced by my hair falling upwards), there is also a stillness to it that I really like. I also like the one at the top of the post, though it would’ve been better without my phone in the reflection.

As enjoyable as the workshop was, the highlight of the day was going down to the sea during the break and having a surprise visit from Fonzi and his friends. It filled my heart with joy.

Down by the river-cide

While researching the history of the Thames river for my Interim Show work, I came across information about London’s lost rivers, one of which is the Fleet. Technically, the Fleet is not lost, rather it is covered over and now functions as a sewer that spews its effluent-rich waters into the Thames under Black Friars bridge. Fleet Street takes its name from the river (ironic that a conduit of muck should lend its name to a thoroughfare synonymous with the British Press), which was alternatively called the Holborn – derived from the word ‘burn’ meaning ‘river’ or ‘stream’, after which the area of Holborn is named. Once a vibrant London river, with its headwaters in Hampstead Heath, the Fleet is now a subterranean Acheron that London has choked with its waste. It can’t be a good thing to kill a river. I wonder if the Fleet will have its revenge?

The Fleet river 1810
Covering the Fleet
The Fleet as a sewer

Along with the Fleet, I have been learning a lot about the Thames. The best source of information so far is a book by Peter Ackroyd, called “Thames – Sacred River”. It is beautifully written and utterly riveting 😉 .

Never mind a single painting for the show, I think I could get a whole body of work out the subject, I am completely captivated. For now though, I will stick with the painting I have in mind. It is somewhat of a departure from the work I normally do, but it is a direction I have been wanting to go in for a while now (namely figurative). As such, it’s all a bit new and scary, but I guess that is why I chose to do an MFA, to be challenged and to develop my work. I am still not sure what style I would like to use for the figures in the painting, so I have just been experimenting this week. The header image is one such experiment.

When I go to London in March, I’d love to spend some time with the Thames, walking on its banks, crossing its bridges, perhaps even taking a boat ride on it. I also wouldn’t mind doing a spot of mudlarking – it would be great to find a little treasure lurking in its mud – though that might take some forethought, as a I believe you need a permit to do it.

Speaking of mudlarking, here is a video I made for The Wisdom Daily a while back, about London’s most famous mudlark.