All my art equipment is in storage too, so here’s a seasonal blast from the past.

Jingle bells everyone and try not to get your tinsel in a tangle!

I recently underwent an epiphany whilst devouring a rare treat of a book, focusing on the raw drawings and watercolours of Egon Schiele, the Austrian Expressionist.  It was edifying to note that this influential figurative artist characteristically left the backgrounds of many paintings unadorned or simply washed parts in a thin, flat, monochrome.  A master of fine line, he conveying much with a minimum of detail.  He did not bow to societal dictates.

An all-but audible ‘thunk’ occurred as my soggy neural structures were permeated: the copious purist ‘rules’ underpinning traditional techniques are not to be interpreted as rigid instruction – they are merely principles to guide.  Fine, mock all you like!

It proved impossible to get this A2 image scanned so my abysmal photograph will have to do – if you click the image a few times it looks better larger.  There’s some artistic licence with the guitar which was a struggle to accurately depict and the body proportions look wrong – which is strange since I conscientiously measured scale and ratios for the first time ever.

This study was, however, brazenly created in the knowledge that nobody will punish me for leaving the subject floating untethered on the paper.  I’m free to vociferously outline in ink or crayon.  Do I dare highlight with white paint?  Do I dare disturb the universe?

Suddenly, I feel vaguely unloosened.

In other news, I’ve started painting again…somebody alert the media!!!

The abover two initial attempts at painting this friend of my son left me severely disheartened and frustrated by my dearth of technical skills.  At the end of the process I’d inevitably do something to ruin it.  Without formal training, making progress is difficult but, as someone once said; “Practice is the best of all instructors” so I’ve stopped sulking and here I am again.

Watercolour is one of the most challenging of painting mediums in that it is unpredictable.  The lack of control simultaneously thrills me and scares the pants off me.  Oh yes, I know how to have fun.

The following two studies taught me much about paint manipulation.  When attempting spontaneity and allowing the paint to do its own thing, it helps to be prepared for any eventuality.  Using a spray water bottle and kitchen paper allows for more control, as do loud yelps and sharp intakes of breath, although this does tend to startle the other people who live here.

With this first attempt, the darkest colour was painted first and when completely dry, lighter, transparent colours were glazed over.  This was in response to being educated by my friend Carol King on a fascinating process called Brunaille, except that this is in the wrong context and  I used blue instead of brown.  It was useful in helping me to appreciate the values of light and shadow.

The early stages look better than the finished version – the scanner makes it appear far muddier than the original and the poor girl appears to be in dire need of a shave.

The second study below didn’t scan well either (honestly, not an excuse) – it is frankly clownish.

Back to the drawing board.  I plan to paint numerous versions and strive to feel comfortable about giving a picture to the model; I can’t seem to quite ‘capture’ her.

Now if only I could channel my inner critic to help me perceive at what point to put the brush down and step away from the painting!  Less is more, stupid! So stop it.  I know you too are guilty of this.

You’re so glad you read this blog post, aren’t you? Admit it; I have enriched your life.

Recently I’ve become dramatically aware that life is grossly unfair.  This pungent fact has recently re-affirmed itself tragically on two of my oldest, dearest friends – utterly devastating both their lives.

Feeling intensely ineffective and lacking a magic wand to frantically wave in their direction, I painted these little ‘bon mots’ as a feebly small reminder to them that, no matter how terrible life is, it is vital to always make room for laughter and spontaneity.  Easy for me to say.

The halls are decked, tinsel tamed, bells jingled, mince pies baked and I have Santa’s mail-order number on speed dial.  I’ve refrained from scowling when every store assaults my ears with Christmas muzac playing on an endless loop.  Three cards have been received already – two from the Chinese takeaway.

The only problem is that red fluffy bits of marabou feather trim have migrated to every item of clothing and room in the house – I’m literally spitting feathers!

Wishing you all a happy, sparkly and peaceful Christmas.  See you next year.

Look, I’m not dead, I’ve had the builders in.

Herewith my attempt at staving off the inevitable end of Summer.

Should you not have a predilection for death-metal music, you may have just a smidge of trouble appreciating the finer aesthetic points of the angry, aggressive-looking band logo below. As I didn’t know a mosh pit from an arm pit, creating it was arduous; I was like a floundering mackerel out of water.

To my untutored ears the initial shocking auditory overload of this subgenre sound seemed reminiscent of a wild animal amidst its death throes. Courageous persistence afforded me a detailed fast-track education in the core nuances of ‘extreme’ throat-screaming, (nightmarish, spine-chilling) headbanging, shredding, chugging, riffs and seven-string guitars.  It’s almost time for my medication.

My endeavours to achieve the brief for an image resembling the gaping jaws of a furious wild animal were rewarded by the band members professing that my logo is “SICK”.   Such obvious flattery had me agreeing to further design t-shirts and other merchandise.

Their elemental image is monolithically hardcore; ear tunnels and tattoos notwithstanding.  The visceral sound pushes beyond most people’s preconceived notions of heavy music.  And yet…these young men are not remotely dangerous; each one is well educated, admirably charming with impeccable good manners.  They are passionate, ambitious and intensely focused on technical perfection and good song writing….although I may be accused of bias, having spawned the 17 year old lead guitarist (far left).

If you’re feeling really brave have a listen to them.

Whether or not you are an embracer of the death metal scene…it is huge and rapidly becoming more mainstream…you have been warned!

….close eyes to exit.

*Update! My son quit the band as he needs more time for his music studies – jazz: much easier on the ear*

This figure drawing/painting class is freeing me up – it’s refreshing to focus purely on the PROCESS instead of the end product.

The first was a 15 minute pose and the second 10 minutes.  In future I’ll only use large 420 x 594 mm paper for figure drawing as the 10 minute studies are far superior to the 20 minute watercolour I did on smaller 356 x 254 mm paper….which is why I’m not showing it to you.

Today was my first figure drawing/painting class since the age of nineteen.

After some initial nerves I decided to simply have fun, especially as I was wearing my lucky Wonder Woman pants.  Technically, there is room for improvement, this I know.  I’m trying to disciplin myself to really SEE and make my hand draw what I see.

The scanning isn’t up to much but here is one of my ten minute study plus a twenty minute effort in watercolour and ink.

This little watercolour painting was my attempt at humour.  It was a birthday gift for my youngest step-daughter who runs her own personal training business.

After the picture was left to dry on a table in another room  I forgot all about it until I overheard two teenage friends of my son talking and realised they were discussing it.  One lad obviously didn’t get the joke as the other said “That’s a trainer, see?  And it’s making personal remarks to the weights – the trainer is telling the weights that they’re dumb”.  He still didn’t really understand it.

So I thought it would be prudent to include his explanation just in case my sense of humour is less quirky than I’d imagined and is far more strange than is conventional.

So who knows why I’ve set up shop on Etsy?  It’s a shop with nothing to sell yet.  My head throbs from thinking what to write on the profile page and I may never wade through the slew of advice on how to make my stuff sell over the million and one other Etsy-ites doing exactly the same thing.

Last week I designed five tea towels.  (You can see more detail via the ‘Digital’ page if you click on each one.)

The printing quote was inhibiting and necessitated orders of 150 of each.  The vision of me trying to live amongst floor-to-ceiling piles of toppling, unsold tea towels wasn’t attractive.

So a quick rethink later and the current plan is to paint some pretty pictures and a few quirky greeting cards to see whether anyone is mad enough wants to pay for them.

Next week, who knows?  I wonder what Wonder Woman would do?

Being too impatient to closely follow rules in instruction books, I applied my usual trial and error approach by throwing myself at Photoshop and…yes it hurt, but I’m taking antibiotics for it.

Anyway, PROGRESS!

You can probably hear me patting my own back from where you are.

I’m pleased with it – did I mention that before?

Since my earliest memories I’ve been told and accepted that I could draw and I admit that the act of being creative has immeasurably enhanced my existence.  My passion was cutting hair but, since being enveloped in the embrace of ME/CFS, hairdressing became impossible – so for two years I’ve been attempting to rediscover my self-taught drawing skills.

Inexplicably, for most of this year my energies have focused on torturing myself with self-induced pressure, whilst my innards wrestled enthusiastically.  The harder I urged myself to produce, the more paralysed my hands and brain became – my illustrations became as rare as those metaphorical hens’ teeth.

Last year a very thoughtful artist friend sent me “The Artists Way” by Julia Cameron, which did the trick – even though I consider the author to be slightly dippy.  After revisiting the book this week my rather arthritic recovery seems to have begun once more.  It feels like I’ve been given permission to enjoy being creative…scandalous!

This is not a book endorsement – it is merely an attempt to point out how easily we can become so goal-orientated that we forget to enjoy the process.  So intently focused on becoming an Illustrator was I that I froze and became afraid of failing.

In addition, it is often hugely intimidating to observe the mass of incredibly talented individuals abounding on the internet – a glance at the work of some of my Twitter associates perfectly demonstrates my point.

Apparently my anxiety over feeling I have to produce something ‘great’ every time has blocked my creativity and the remedy is to take small steps rather than large leaps.  I was setting impossible goals for myself.

Today, after a good mental slap, I treated myself.  I sketched my son and muse solely for my own pleasure, without concentrating on best technique or medium.  Don’t think I’m there yet but I hope to keep it up!

P.S. This post by Creative Coach Dan Goodwin says it all really.

It is a british requisite to moan about Christmas coming too early and I’m usually first to grumble about the crass hype during the ever-lengthening run-up to Christmas.

Apologies then, to those who haven’t even managed to de-rust their barbecue yet – there’s a glimmer of tinsel to be found here!

For once I’ve resolved to positively embrace Christmas absurdly early by launching myself into the Tiger Print competition to create surface pattern designs for wrapping paper, cards etc – 2011!

Anyway, here it is for what it’s worth….and my entry has actually been uploaded to the site.

I approached it purely as a learning exercise and after WEEKS (!) of careful work I’ve realised that my (Fireworks) self-taught approach isn’t nearly enough and I urgently need some formal Photoshop training

So I don’t care how early those bells start jing-a-ling-ing or partridges are shoved into pear trees, just as long as someone stomps on every single recording of that repellent, ear-bashing, omnipresent Christmas song by those miscreants known as Slade.

la-la-la-not-listening…

The image was to fit on a narrow, horizontal, white card and illustrate that the event would be held on Kentish farmland boasting two fishing ponds and several animal breeds.

The happy couple were “thrilled” with my efforts and I was officially dubbed a “clever old stick!  The wedding day was appropriately and sublimely magical and I even made my own fascinator for the occasion.



This is the first time I’ve ever entered an art competition.   What a relief to have finished!

I’m not deluded enough to imagine that it will be selected as I’m aware that my self-taught, inexperienced work will probably be considered somewhat naive – but it was so worth having a go.

There were some days when I almost gave up but, thanks to some timely words of encouragement, I’m glad I persevered as the experience of taking part was invaluable.  It was educational, time-gobbling, sometimes frustrating and even scary but also fun.

And now I can bask in that warm, fuzzy feeling of having achieved my goal…until I start the next project.

Anyway…EEEEEeeeEEkk!!!

Some are being avidly studied – others, I’m merely dipping into.  They all offer me the opportunity to further develop the multiple intricacies of illustration skills and feed my insatiable curiosity about the subject.

Soon I hope to demonstrate here how they have inspired and educated me.  My motto is to never stop learning and trying to improve.

Watch this space….*cue “Wonder Woman theme tune”* ♬ ♫ ♪ ♩

The brief  for this logo was for clean, simple lines with no frills.  It just had to say what they were about.

I put on my minimalist cap and based it on the Bahamian flag which you can see below.

This fledgling company gave me positive feedback – they said my logo enhanced their business image. Wishing them success with their new enterprise.