My fella – bexODESSA

All cakes are not created equal!

CSM MFA - Progress Blog, Experiments, Green, Week in Review

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.

My fella has a rover eye

CSM MFA - Progress Blog, Project 2, Week in Review

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.

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.

Geoff Day on Fire

CSM MFA - Progress Blog, Holidays, Painting, Research Project

For me, painting is an obsessive drive that consumes my every waking hour. If I’m not doing it, I’m thinking about it. It is no exaggeration to say my life revolves around my painting practice, the discipline of which is anchored down deep. Not only does my fella support my love of painting, he actively facilitates and protects it. Were it not for him, I’d be a lonely cat-lady with no cat, pushing my trolley around town with paint in my hair (I’m not kidding, that’s how he found me). Instead, I’m painting all day in a beautiful studio next to the sea, doing my MFA, and generally living a life I could previously only dream of. True, I still have paint in my hair, and don’t have a cat, but I am loved and warm and completely indulged, and am no longer in need of a trolley. Its a wonderful life, and I am thankful everyday that I get to live it.

Each week, I have a break from the studio (from Friday evening till Saturday evening), so Geoff and I can spend some quality time together. Geoff refers to this period as Bexapalooza, Bex-in-the-park, or simply Bexfest. That’s because we typically end up doing Bex-related activities, like visiting graves, wells, or my parents. By way of a counter-balance, every now and then we have Geoff Day – i.e. 24 hours of Geoff-related activities. When I say “every now and then“, I mean once every two years. That’s until last Friday when we had Geoff Day on Fire (after already having a standard Geoff Day in December). As we were celebrating his birthday as well, I wanted to make this Geoff Day extra special (hence the Fire), so I booked a night in a swanky hotel and organised some activities I knew he would like.

First on the list was a Trike Tour around the Isle of Man. Our particular tour was called “The Road Less Travelled”, which took us on the stunningly beautiful roads in the centre of the Island, while our tour-guide (aka our friend Simon) regaled us with tales of the grizzly murders and goings-on in the isolated cottages and farms along the way – like the son who ran-through his father with a pitchfork, over a quarrel about a cow. It was a fabulous tour, and we both thoroughly enjoyed it.

Next, we went boozing. I took my book in case the conversation got slow, and Geoff displayed his uncanny ability of making a raspberry mojito look manly.

Then it was back to the hotel for some wine and birthday presents, one of which was a fancy massage gun, which obviously needed testing, so I graciously obliged…after all, it was Geoff Day on Fire!

We then had a delicious dinner at the hotel’s Asian-fusion restaurant, after which we retired to our room. I’d like to say a great time was had by all, but I was struck-down with a migraine and kept Geoff awake all night with my fidgeting and moaning (of the “holy smokes my head is sore” variety). Added to which, the bathroom stank of raw sewage, due to the old-as drains that had likely not been changed since the Victorians were knocking about.

Geoff Day on Fire having already devolved into Bexfest, Geoff took us the long way home the next day, so we could stop off at a cemetery, and look for a well (both of which were involved in a story I am researching for a post-Interim Show painting). We then popped in and saw my folks for good measure. To show my appreciation, I let Geoff do something he’s been wanting to do since we met. That is, take me on his motorbike. He got a little choked up when I agreed to do it, as he’s never had a girl on the back of his bike before, only Phil and Belal. To be honest, I’m not a fan of motorbikes, on a account of all the dying, but I trust Geoff, and knew he’d ride sensibly. Still, I was terrified.

I’m pleased to say, I survived the ride, and Geoff survived another Geoff Day, despite the no sleep, residual smell of sewage that was burned into his nostrils, not to mention the grave-visiting, well-searching, in-law-seeing Bexapaloozing! I bet he can’t wait for the next one!