Progress

I worked very hard today and have come up with this. Still not got to grips with patterns or that sort of stuff, so I mucked about a bit.

Not really a blog post per se, I just wanted to share my joy after the vile day yesterday when I was starting to learn.

I voiced my reluctance to follow patterns when I saw Lynn. I have this cool idea of being a freeform chrocheteer, all hip and whatnot, but she tells me she has a book with a pattern for making a Dalek. I'm pretty much convinced by that.

Crochet Saboteur

I want a medal. I’ve done the washing up (granted mostly because my hands were cold and I thought it’d warm me up) and cleaned the backdoor. No, this is not a euphemism, I really have cleaned the back door. Scrubbed off splattered eggs to be more precise.  For some reason the local kids manage to periodically drag themselves away from their Playstations,  X Boxes, marijuana smoking and underage fumblings in alleyways to come and throw eggs at my house. Occasionally they go for a bit of variety and throw mud instead, but there have to be certain precise weather conditions for that.

Of all the hateful, scum sucking jobs in the world, cleaning off solidified egg has to be right there at the top of the list. I would know, I’ve got children and I’ve had to perform some doozies of cleaning jobs in my time. Once, my daughters covered themselves head to toe in my deep purple hair dye. Yes, I know, it’s my own fault for having it in the first place and for leaving it within reach, but sending them to school in various fading shades of red and pink as it gradually wore off was an experience in itself. The headmistress was most concerned for their welfare after that.

Is it any wonder I have a growing paranoia about being the local neighbourhood funny lady? It’s bad enough that I sit at my desk for a goodly amount of hours per day, slowly becoming like that pale, withered, slimy grass you find when you lift a rock up in the garden. I don’t have woodlice or earthworms on me yet, but it’s only a matter of time. The actions of the local youth mafia are akin to posting a sign in my yard warning of evil within. Why eggs? Can anybody tell me what the fascination is? I’m tempted to go out and about lobbing a few myself to see if it’s something I’ve missed that might bring on that enormous sense of wellbeing that people go on about.

I suppose I’d better offer an update on the nail-bitingly scintillating crochet progress, eh? I sat myself down yesterday with some new yarn that I picked up in town. I thought it might be inspiring, and hoped it would be less splitty than the other stuff I had. It was also reduced to £1.50 per ball.  It took an hour of hideous mess ups and nasty, woolly, skanky things rolling off the hook before I finally sorted myself out and produced anything that actually looked like crochet. There was a Youtube video tutorial involved, at which I yelled and cursed as the woman irritated me beyond measure. Talking too slowly, then too quickly, rambling on about her crochet hooks (see, I don’t call them needles any more) and being all condescending with me. She refused to stop when I made mistakes and I huffed and puffed throughout.

Eventually I managed to create the thing below, which I stuck onto a piece of paper and posted through Lynn’s front door. I think she’sproud of the end result, though she might be less so if she’d witnessed the process. It wasn’t that relaxed granny-by-the-fire-with-cat-at-feet-and-cup-of-tea-and-warm-smile thing at all. This is not how I pictured crochet.

My Ineptitude Shines Like a Beacon in the Night

I've made killer coffee this morning. It borders on the undrinkable, even for me, but I'm not going to let it win. Maybe it'll fuel me with some energy? We can but hope.

What a grim day I had for most of yesterday. When my beloved is away I immediately turn into some crazy cat lady (minus the cats, which I think is pretty bad). I started off well, but as the day grew older my motivation seeped away, leaving me sitting on the couch with a bag of crisps by 3pm. I haven't had such junk food in months, but there I went. I even swtiched the TV on, a most unadvisable action in the daytime. My brain cringed away in fear, so I had some chocolate too.

The house is a disgrace. I did some washing and hung it on the line by way of fooling myself into feeling just a tad industrious. I keep saying every day that I'm going to splurge and clean up, but I never get past the first half hour.

So, next I got some more stuff out and had a muck about with my sewing machine. The idea for making a miniature book in white has worked rather well. I bonded some achingly gorgeous watercolour paper with interfacing and machine stitched onto it, then hand embroidered over that. This book is 4cm x 4cm, so it's mindbogglingly fiddly, but it looks the business. I've ironed out the few things that I wasn't keen on in the last ones I made and it's going well. I still have to cut and assemble the pages, which I'll do this morning and then sew the whole lot together. I guess I ought to feel some small sense of accomplishment that I got anything at all done really, given my lack of mojo.

The evening was the bit I was dreading most. I'm used to being alone all day and working, the time goes by in a flash, but night time is when Jay's here and we do couple things. What would any sane person do? That's right, pop out and grab a curry. I have a most unhealthy addiction to lamb dhansak and will eat it anytime I'm able. I don't do it too often for fear that one day they'll have to take the side of the house off to help me get out, but it seemed reasonable to treat myself this once. Oh the joy! It was glorious. I'm beginning to suspect that there's something about chilli we're not told. The stuff is addictive, no less so than heroin. I crave it. I feel bitter disappointment if a dish is not as spicy as I feel it ought to be. I fancy that in 100 years people will be looking back in dodgy TV documentaries, gasping with shock that such a drug was ever legal and widely available, a bit like they do about the introduction of cocaine back in the day.

Aprés curry, I involved myself in something most unusual. My friend from just over the garden wall popped over to give me a mini class in crochet. This is something I have never done, to my shame, since I've learned bits and pieces of pretty much every other art and craft known to man. The hole in my knowledge needed filling and Lynn was the man for the job.

As is always the way when Lynn and I get together, we made tea (rose flavoured this time), gossipped a bit and shared our latest creative results. This takes quite a while when anyone comes here because I have endless projects, either on the go or finished and laying all round my workspace. There's always another, "oh wait, I made this too" to be endured. Poor Lynn. We also rifled through our button/thread/yarn stashes and enjoyed the ladyporn aspects of it that many people just wouldn't understand. It's simply phenomenal being able to share these peculiar little joys.

Yes, I'm procrastinating. The crochet bit. Oh great jumping jebus, what a carry on. In my defense, I've never had much in the way of co-ordination. I can learn to work a process if I give it time, but brand new things with unfamiliar tools are a geat source of vexation for me. Lynn would confirm this wholeheartedly as she has been the unfortunate victim of my inadequacies in this regard before. The only time I've ever felt more flummoxed than this was when I was learning to drive, and Lynn was privvy to that little debacle too, but that's another story.

Unlike most methods I use, crochet makes absolutely no sense to me. I can knit, sew, paint, draw, use Photoshop, Excel, build a simple website, blowdry my hair, apply makeup (to make even me look passable), sculpt, cast, dye, weave, print, the list goes on. But crochet, man, it has no basis in reality. You make a chain, which I've mastered, and then it all goes crazymad. It reminds me of the ill fated time I tried aerobics. I went to this class and they taught me a vine leaf (or somethng) little routine that is the basis of all the moves. You do this automatically to keep your lower half busy while you flail your arms hereabouts. Everyone else was vine leafing with aplomb, but me? No chance. I couldn't do it without scrunching up my eyes and concentrating as though I were working out quadratic equations in my head. I felt I were Michael Jacksonesque for even managing to keep in motion, but this wasn't enough. Needless to say it was a total fail and I never went back. I was similar with yoga. The instructor gave this great motivational speech at the start about people having different ability levels and it was just a matter of time before you got into the ryhthm, but by the end of the class he was in hysterics laughing at my attempts. He advised I go home and try it alone before returning, as he was afraid I'd hurt myself. Hurt his sides from guffawing more like. Again, I never returned.

So, back to crochet. I'm not going to let it beat me. I'll work hard and I hope to be able to post a completed small "thing" through Lynn's door by the end of the week, just to show her I'm not totally inept. All she's seen so far is a nasty little green blob that I managed to create, sadly comparible to a bogey. I don't want her to be disappointed in me and I must prove that I can win this fight. I think she'll be even more pleased than when I passed my driving test, though I recall vividly the conversation she relayed to me between her and my driving instructor right afterwards, where he shook his head and uttered in his spikey Glaswegian way, "I wouldnae have put money on it.".

I don't think I'll ever be the crochet queen, but I'd like a little of what everyone else appears to have. If I can make just one granny square or just one flower I'll be satisfied.

Books Books Books

I'm a total book fiend. I read a lot and we have bookcases piled up in a most ungainly fashion all over the house. The only thing better than a novel is a notebook/sketchbook. I've lost count of the amount of times I've been absolutely bowled over by the look and feel of a beautiful hardbound book and spent a crazy amount of money because I simply must have it.

When I was at college, back in 1995 I had the good fortune to be friends with one of the world's most amazing art teachers. I've mentioned him before (in my biography I believe), but his praises cannot be sung often enough. A humble man, at that time in his mid 40s, John was my hero. He had such a wonderful manner about him and a wickedly mischevous sense of humour. he was warm, friendly and aside from my husband and sister, the singularly most supportive and encouraging person in my life. I often wished he'd been my dad, or at the very least that he'd been in my life for longer than the time he was. I could tell a thousand stories of our adventures together, but I don't have time today. I should write a book sometime.

Anyway, back then I was given to spending many extra hours in college, often working until I had to go home to bed. It was a year of intense progress and gaining of skills and knowledge. Of course, John was instrumental in all of this. He had so many things to teach and I wanted to know everything, so we made a great team. He knew my love of good paper and books and one day offered to teach me how to make my own books using the traditional library binding techniques that he'd learned as a student, back in the day when such crafts were passed down to be kept alive.

We did this one differently than other lectures. John gave me  list of materials to bring and I shopped for waxed thread, bias tape, cloth, the perfect paper, glue and all the other bits and pieces. It was doubtless more exciting because I had never done anything quite like it before, as well as the fact that it was feeding my love of all things sketchbook. I distinctly recall the slight confusion and my inner debate as to what we could possibly be using bias binding for.

In the days since this, I have often appreciated that John spent so much time with me in one to one teaching sessions. Having gone on to instruct students myself I now have an understanding of how it feels to have someone really want to learn, and the desire to take them under my wing as they progress. Even after I left college and went on to university I would go to life drawing class in the evenings, with John sneaking me in so that I didn't have to pay (he knew I couldn't afford it). I would take some sandwiches and salad for our dinner, which we would eat in the deserted college canteen after the day classes ended but before the night students arrived. He would teach the others and let me sit on the floor with all my drawing materials, sketching away as I do, like a crazy person who is in fear that someone will suddenly appear and steal it all from them at any moment.

So, back to the bookbinding. We worked step by step. John demonstrated and I copied. He gave me all kinds of little hints and tips, telling me which stages needed to be done slowly and precisely, which needed to be done swiftly because the glue must be at an optimum, what changes I could make to personalise and so on. The result was my first ever handmade sketchbook, possibly one of my proudest moments ever. This teaching method is what I now like to employ where possible. The sort where you can engage with someone and impart the little tricks you've learned from your experience.

I went on to make a small library of books. This was the year prior to my degree and I was to arrive at university with enough books to take me through almost to second year. I branched out and created some that were A2 size for my bigger drawing projects, as well as adding pages of different papers in all colours and textures. I dyed and embroidered fabric for the covers and generally had an amazing time with it.

Fast forward from 1995 to 2011. John is gone now. He died in 2003 aged 54 from a sudden and massive heart attack. He was alone in his house and nobody found him until the next morning. It was a terrible shock because he was always very healthy and took great care to exercise every day, eat well and generally lead a good life. His mother's heart broke, as did mine. I will always remember the long talk I had with her when I found out he'd gone. We cried on the phone and spoke of him for hours. She told me how he used to discuss me and my work, not that I ever felt worthy of the praise he gave me. As a mother she had wanted me for a daughter in law, which was so sweet and probably the highest accolade I have ever had as a person. John's Mum was a formidable lady for whom I always had the greatest love and respect, and hearing her open her heart up to me like that was so touching.

All this is in my mind because yesterday I made two books. It's been a number of years since I last did this and I'm a tad rusty, so I sat here at my desk and slowly went over my memories of that bookbinding lesson. I smiled to myself as I remembered it all, thinking of John, wishing he was around to give me advice on what I'm doing now. Not the book thing, but the change of direction and all the decisions I am needing to make. He always had very wise words to offer, which would do the trick. He would send these little notes through the post, scrawled in his beautiful artist's handwriting upon index cards, just a sentence or two,

"Make your portfolio read like a story unfolding in a book", 

"They wouldn't have been so harsh with their questions if they didn't think you were worth their time" (this one when I went for my meeting to try and get a place on the degree course I had my heart set on),

"Expect a severe dip in mood now that the term is over and you can relax for a few weeks. Don't let it take you by surprise. It's normal and you'll be fine".

I could use some of his little encouraging fortune cookies at the moment. Not that I'm flagging in my work, more that I feel I need to make some decisions. It's never easy when you come to a crossroads, especially for a ditherer like me.

I have Jay now of course. Not that I would compare the two, as this would be a disservice to both of them. Jay encourages and supports me every single day and has a belief in me that I could never match inside my own head. Even now when I am here not earning much toward our upkeep and (as I see it) indulging myself in my work, he is full of praise and admiration, so much that I sometimes feel a fraud. John's confidence in me used to make me feel the same way.

I am clearly getting to the stage where I am investing an emotional aspect into my work. This is what I wanted, though I'm a little bowled over by the effect it's having on me. It's like travelling back to that magical four years when I was studying, the time I look back on as though it were a dream. I've accidentally been in contact with some inspirational people this week too, reminding me that there's another side of me that I've perhaps negelcted a little recently. I've done a quick comparison of office me (from the past few years) and present day me, coming up with the resulting differences. There's a long way to go yet, but I'm back on the road of discovery, having shed the things I don't like from my life.

Fridays always throw me. It's the day when tiredness hits after a week of long hours, or the day emotions hit, or as last week, the day my back gives out after pushing myself too much. Today is no different. I both look forward to and dread them a little, never quite knowing what to expect. Generally I will need to rest a bit, as I will do today in between bouts of work.

I'm working on the sandwich van tomorrow and possibly Sunday (the most regular and lucrative earning power I have these days) so I'll be on my feet all day. I'm concerned for my back, but I can't hold off from life due to it. I'll be taking all my creams, pills and bravery along to reinforce me. I may even take along a stool to rest on bewteen jobs, as there's nowhere to sit if I need to.

Today for the most part I am going to be making book cloths. This can be done in a fairly relaxed setting, maybe even on a drawing board on the couch. Imagine that luxury! I have plain calico here which I used yesterday for one of my efforts, but now I want to move on and dye/decorate it for the next batch. I have this glorious idea of creating a whole host of varied and beautiful pieces which I will go on to sell later (if I can bring myself to part with them - no, I must). I still haven't started marketing any of my work, I'm too busy generating it. I need a salesperson to step in here, or something.

Also I should tidy up a bit round here. With the best will in the world it's a messy business that I do and I have never managed to lose the guilt of living in a tip.

Help!

Sitting at my desk since 7.30am and I have idea overload.

A combination of coffee and inspiration has rendered me incapable of focussing and I now have 20 million bits and pieces in fron to me, a gazillion ideas, and none of the common sense to implement any of it.

How to deal with it when the brain is working at super speed and the hands are incapable of following? My sketchbook is a mass of scrawls attempting to capture the ideas and I fear they'll pop like balloons and never come back.

I'm going to have breakfast and a 5 minute chill to compose myself.

Sometimes I feel like one of those loony artists locked in a basement.

March Has Arrived

I hadn't realised this blog was so neglected.I could have sworn I wrote something between January and now, but alas no. Shame on me.

So, my experiments since last time have mostly focussed on felt. I have fallen deeply in love with this medium and I shall continue to play with it every time I get the chance. I started off making phone cases and progressed to flower corsages via a roundabout route, mainly because this is the next project for the craft group in Liverpool. As usual I needed to make a few samples, and again, as always, I've created lots. Last count was 29 "flowers", which are currently sitting on my coffee table looking most decorative.

Researching and experimenting with felt and fibres has also taken me down the wet and dry felting path (I can't say that without thinking of wet and dry sandpaper- what's that about?). I acquired felting needles and sponge, plus many colours of Merino and Corriedale wool fibre and watched tutorials for a few days. My first attempt was a 3D plushie type thing of a Cthulhu monster, who turned out really well. I think I have my experience in scultpure to thank for that particular little win. Most people haven't a clue what a Cthulhu is, so as far as the world is concerned he's just a little green thing with tentacles and wings. Fair enough. I made a few more monster things of various sorts and then moved on to wet felting. I like both methods very much and it's interesting to combine the two (I made spikey brooches this way).

The down side to using felting fibres is that they're not exactly cheap. I want to make larger items, such as hats, which can be amazingly scupltural, but that takes heaps of wool. I'll work on that in the near future after I've sourced a decent supplier. Jay has refused my idea of keeping an alpaca in the back yard for the purpose of harvesting its wool. Tsk. Sourcing of materials seem to be taking up an inordinate amount of my time lately!

I'm doing my recycling thing all the time of course, and seeking woollen jumpers at charity shops to turn into felted things, but they're pretty scarce so far. I'm desperate to make a felt bag of some sort and using old sweaters is a brilliant way of ensuring durability, as well as being eco friendly, which I love.

I've spent the last few weeks hunched over my desk sewing. It's really reminded me of why I went into constructed textiles for my degree. I absolutely adore it. The time simply flies by and I find myself still in the same position at 6pm that I adopted at 7.30am that morning; hungry, thirsty and with a growing stash of creations surrounding me. Not very healthy of course, so it's fortunate that Tascha and Jay ferry me cups of tea when they're home and ring me at lunchtime to remind me to grab a snack. I've lost weight (which I can well afford to do by the way) because I'm no longer sitting in front of spreadsheets, bored out of my skull all day and nibbling on bad-for-me delights. An apple will do for lunch as I dash past the fruit bowl, but I do eat in the evening with the family, so don't start sending an ambulance round just yet.

I have a class in Liverpool this Thursday and another next week in Widnes. I'm holding a small monthly workshop in the local community centre after discovering that people are asking for craft groups on a fairly regular basis. There are other arty things going on, but no general "make things" group, so we'll see how that pans out. It's not going to be a money maker for me, but between the three or four classes each month and my helping out on a friend's catering van some Saturdays I am managing to eke out a small part time wage. I am also intending to get myself organised enough to start selling some of the samples I'm making. I've registered with Etsy, so I shall give that a go shortly.

I need to write a timetable for my work schedule. I very much tend toward obsessive behaviour and working in one medium really intensively for a given timescale. Felt is king right now of course, but I haven't done any drawing or painting (apart from the occasional venture into Photoshop to make a quick poster or somesuch) for weeks. I promised myself that I would draw every day, even if it's only for a few minutes, and I've let that slip. This needs to be remedied. I'm kind of counting on the weather inproving so I can take myself out to draw down by the river or somewhere each day. I'd love a progressive series of studies of umbels as they bud and bloom during the year. I reckon I can base a gazillion pieces of work on something like that.

I'm a little surprised at the girly stuff I'm enjoying. The flower theme is inspiring, and the umbels call. I've just Ebayed some florist wire and tape so I can make little bouquets out of the felt blooms. Am I turning into a pwincess? Perish the thought. I must balance things out by making some zombie stuff asap. Brainzzzzz brainzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Shrink!

We started off the day by watching a bit of telly and having breakfast together, which was ace. I'm just loving Shameless and I feel very spoiled by there being five episodes this week. Had a good natter with my sis on the phone too, catching up on all her news and whittering about my work (since that's pretty much all I have in my mind these days).


I wanted to do a bit of 3D work today, some samples of brand new stuff. I made a flower out of synthetic satin and it turned out really well. My shrink plastic arrived so I thought I'd give that a go too. All I can say is, wow! I am loving it. I made a cupcake and a sugar skull. I can't imagine why I've never used this before. It shrinks down your images by about 70% and is quite hard work, but well worth the effort.  I started off by doing a drawing, then tracing it onto the plastic before colouring and then finally heating it. You can also gloss it, which I may do tomorrow.



After talking with my sis this morning I have yet more projects to do. I have finally decided to write some lists, which I should have been doing all along really. So many ideas pop into my head that I keep losing them in the chaos, so recording them somewhere seems very wise.


Oh and last night we had a simply fantastic time! Jay and I went to see this chap (Phil) who wants to do some music with him. We were there a few hours and I helped with lyrics and critique, which was more fun than I'd ever expected. I thoroughly enjoyed myself and we came out of there having completed a whole track. It sounds brilliant and I'm so proud that they let me be involved. The setup there is something else, with all the computer gubbins and music odds and ends to create and record tracks just like that. Phil is very very good and ever such a nice fellow, it was a pleasure to be there. I'm really looking forward to next time.


Did a little sales shopping in town on a brief trip out this afternoon. I got coloured pencils and watercolour pencils for a few quid a tin, a serious bargain. Yes, I know, all my buying for ages has been art materials and I run the risk of becoming a bore. I shall try to balance it out by buying some new shoes or something asap.

January Stuff

Spent a leisurely hour in town this morning. I decided on the spur of the moment that todays paintings are going to be of green things. Since fruits are the fashion with me at the moment I bought a green apple, a pear, some limes and some grapes. I already have kiwis. It's all jet setting round here you know. I'm loving green with grey, though it could be a little drab. Experimenting shall commence later.


People watching was uplifting. There were lots of old retired chaps around, out buying their morning papers and such. The banter between them was really funny; they're like schoolboys, teasing each other and having a giggle. One was accusing another of getting him out of the café too early for the bus, another watched his friend approach on walking sticks and asked him if he'd been picked for the footie team this weekend. Another got off the bus and stuck his tongue out at his friends as he walked past the window. I was chuckling to myself all the way home listening to them.


Jay has the day off tomorrow. I really hope the weather is good and we can go for a walk down at the river. I haven't seem the heron for ages. I'll take some photos of the trees and plants too, now that I've got batteries in my camera (the last lot were rubbish, I put them in and hadn't even taken a photo when they ran out. What's that about?).


It's Hannah's birthday tomorrow. I found a Hello Kitty duvet set for her while I was out, which I'm sure she'll love. It's always hard getting her presents so close after christmas, which I'm sure I've complained about every year.


I spent all day yesterday working. I got a design completed for the scarf competition, which I am pleased with in some ways but I feel I can do better (isn't it always like that?). I may do some more. I'm certainly on a roll with the subject matter. A few people have voted on the submission, which is both very nice and quite surprising. They may have given it the lowest ranking though, who knows? I have to wait a few weeks for the results to show in actual numbers. Still, I reached my goal in actually doing it and getting it sent in, which I'm most pleased about.


Stayed up late last night in the hopes that I'd sleep more soundly. It did the trick and I was only awake once or twice. It was ever so nice snuggling on the couch with Jay watching films.


The postman hasn't been yet. My ebay stuff should start arriving anytime now. I got something yesterday that I ordered in November as a present for Jay, damn the delays. He loved it though and it made him smile - a hand knitted Cthulhu in lime green with little red button eyes. It's absolutely adorable. I don't know what it is about hand knitted things that makes them so wonderful. I have all kinds that I've collected over the years including ghosts, skeletons, pumpkins and food. Yes food. Knitted cakes, biscuits and sweeties. I once got the kids some play food that consisted of wool bacon, eggs, beans and sausages all on a mini dinner plate. They played with it for years.


Breakfast time now methinks, then on with the watercolouring.

Heroic Jools to the Rescue

I have been rescuer extraordinaire this morning. Jay rang me at about 7.20am in Penelope Pittstop style asking for "Heyulp!" (he denies this ever happened, claiming I am inventing the womanly cries, but I swear it's true, kind of). Poor baby had got a puncture in the dark and rain on the way to work, so I upped and drove over to collect him and dispense him at work.


Which brings me to my observation for the day. All vehicles ought to have a spray gun full of dayglo paint mounted on the bonnett. This should be let loose over the discourteous drivers of the world, allowing us to a) vent frustration and b) mark the culprits as the arsepits they are. One driver in particular inpsired my wrath this morning, cutting me up and then clinging an inch behind the car in front, thus not allowing any of the cars in the subsequent three queues into the lane. It's an unwritten rule of polite driving that one lets in a vehicle from the feeding lane, but not this guy. He was seemingly unaware of any other road users and I hope he has violent indigestion all day as well as a plague of bowel destroying diarrhea.


Since I was out already I ventured to the Wednesday flea market in town.  A sorry gathering that was. I could have been there with a million quid in my pocket and still not been drawn into temptation by even one item. It was a short little sojourn all in all and I was back home by 9am having a cup of tea.


I Ebayed early on this morning and got a few bits that tickle my fancy for my artwork (shrink plastic and some permanent marker pens). I've also called the local toy shop, J. R. hartley style, and discovered that they do indeed have one of those blower thingies that you attach to felt tip pens and spray the ink around. All for the princely sum of one pound. It's funny how you get used to art shop prices for this sort of thing. I am quite delighted and shall pop down there later to pick one up.


Yesterday I remembered my old ventures into paper marbling. In the absence of oil paints I decided to try it with spray paint instead. Apparently it can be done with watercolour or food colouring on a bed of shaving foam, but that's a little too messy even for me. Anyway, the acrylic sprays worked fairly well, especially the metallic ones. On the down side, the house now reeks of paint fumes and I am rather bespeckled in a rainbow of colours. This time I remembered to lay newspapers down and remove my watch and rings, which is astonishing really, since I usually only notice my mistake after the fact. The added bonus here is that I have swept all the mess straight into a bin bag and behold, it's as though nothing ever happened. Apart from the sheets of paper lying everywhere drying of course.

My plan is to scan in the marbled patterns and alter the colourways for a design I'm working on. It's for a textiles competition I want to enter and I am really drawn to the swirly qualities of the images I have. I may overlay watercolour studies on top here and there to give it the oomph I'm after. I was thinking about this when I went to bed last night and my mind obviously didn't switch off, because I was awake at 3am with ideas swimming round in my head. I didn't go back to bed until 5, so I shall more than likely be cantankerous later on.


I did some life drawing yesterday. I've been gearing up to this for weeks. I used to adore the classes I took at college and university, but I realised it has been at least 12 years since I last drew a figure with any consideration. I haven't forgotten how difficult it is, so I have a healthy nervousness about it. I decided to watch some tutorials online as a refresher and it was excellent to see a new teaching style. My old tutor, John, was the best and I always think of him when I'm drawing, wondering if he would approve. I'm not sure he would have liked the newfangled internet instruction clips, but I found them ever so inspiring.


In the absence of someone to sit for hours posing for me, I took photos of Jay to work from. John would not have approved at all of me drawing from anything but life, and I offered him a little apology as I sat here. I did a couple of sessions, both about an hour and a half each and I am really pleased with the results. I'm concentrating on foreshortening, which is excellent to do from photographs as it happens. I probably won't upload them anywhere yet. I might put them on my website once I've got a whole batch to post, but we'll see. it's definitely more for the drawing practice than anything else and I'm not sure people want to look at life drawing (I do, but the general populace, I dunno).


So, after an already eventful and fruitful morning I think I'm going to treat myself to an hour of telly. I recorded Shameless last night, my guilty little pleasure (though it does make me cringe something terrible). A cup of tea and a chill out is quite the tonic.

Just Another Tuesday Morning

It's 8.19am. I am showered and dressed and feeling optimistic. Suddenly I feel a rush of gratitude that I am where I am today. Literally today, right now, this minute.


I am at my desk working (OK, taking a few minutes to write this) with my own materials and inspiration. No office, no corporate bullshit, no treadmill of the same old stuff, breaking my heart to make money for some unseen person/s somewhere else in the world.


My love has just called, the house is silent and I have projects needing to be done. The need here is something that makes me happy. I am more fortunate than I ever dreamed I could be. All I need to make it perfect is a cup of tea, which I am about to achieve.


Joy.

New Start

My first real and proper day of the year in the new scheme of things. How do I feel? A little weird!


Got up with my beloved at godforsaken o'clock for moral support and to make him a toasted bagel to take for his brekkie. He was off at 7am, all togged up in twenty thousand layers of clobber on his bicycle. It had snowed a tiny bit in the night, but not enough to put him off. I felt rather sad seeing him off like that, like a brave thingy into the wilderness. Almost nine miles later he was at work, made it on time and all in one piece. I really need to learn to quit vexing so much about him, as he is more than capable of doing this without getting squished on the roads.


I savoured my morning coffee and got dressed early, then took Tascha to town with me. I needed a few things from Asda and she wanted to get a new coat before she went to college. Shopping was successful, every coat she tried on looked utterly gorgeous on her and she chose a fitted black wool number. Oh to be young and willowy and beautiful.


Today I shall mostly be cleaning this damn house. I need to get a grip on the place and beat it into submission. It's taken advantage of me not being around and become slovenly, so I shall show it what for. I've bought bin bags and cleaning stuff and I shall begin once I've had some boiled eggs. One requires sustinence for such tasks. As soon as I'm happy with it I'll be able to relax and get on with my work. So many plans in my head right now, it might just burst at the seams, Bagpuss style.


I hope to go for a nice walk soon. I can't see it being today (see above), but hopefully by the morning I'll feel accomplished enough to brave the river and Spike Island with my camera and sketchbook. I shall be umbel hunting for inspiration. We shall see.

2011 Begins

Just waiting for some stuff to dry (PVA, latex masking). I really ought to be doing some housework, but it's Sunday, we're all home and I'm so stuck in with my paintings that I don't want to do anything else. I have stopped for breakfast, though I'm not dressed yet.


I'm going to need to do a search for more paper soon. I use this amazing thick watercolour paper all the time and I stock up every time I see it on sale. It's simply glorious, just looking at it makes me want to get the colours out and start scribbling. I know I have a few more stacks of it around the place, so I'll dig it out in a bit.


Mostly this week I've been doing latex masking and applying chalk pastel over the top before peeling (much fun). I'm also crossing over into the realms of pen and ink, which I may concentrate on later today, if only to curb the coloured dust that's now floating in the ether of the dining room. I am falling asleep each night with plans a-hatching as to what stages come next. I'm considering some papercrafting, using the shapes that are coming out of my drawings. The only problem with that is how on earth to store it later without spoiling it. I need to start shifting some of the work I'm doing before the house fills up completely.


What joy to have stopped the disturbing sleep patterns that I've been suffering from for so long. Gone are the recurring dreams about office stuff (everything has to be put into excel format!) and back are the relaxed and happy nights where I don't mind waking up a bit because I have lovely things in my head. Years of restless nights and vexing, anxious dreams appear to have been wiped out in the sweep of one little holiday. I'm ever so grateful.


We're having a Lord of the Rings day today. I'm half watching and listening to the movies as I buzz about doing other things. Jay is painting and the kids are out, apart from Hannah who is asleep with occasional dashes to the bathroom in the throws of the hangover from hell (most amusing). I've done some laundry too and I may sort out the kitchen a bit when I get the urge. Then perhaps a nice relaxing bath.


Did I mention - joy?