For Leonard, With Love xxx

    I draw cartoons for a number of reasons: the simple act of drawing/painting makes me happy; it eases and calms my mind; it entertains and cheers my beautiful Husband when he opens his lunch tin on break at work every day; it creates a record of our lives as seen through the world of our cats, who we love so dearly; and lastly, the process and end product speak for me when words just aren't enough to express the feelings in my heart.

 

    This week, we said 'Goodbye' to Leonard, our beautiful, bouncy baby boy. He was a foundling, discovered by my elderly kitty, Harvey, who insisted that he become his friend and play fellow. As very much as Harvey was my absolute soul, Leonard became my heart.

 

    He was a true innocent; a gentle giant with such a sweet nature and simple brain. He had the most basic of needs - to love, be loved, and to play. And eat biscuits. A lot. He has been a pure bright light in my life and a whole world to my Husband. 

 

    His health has never been good, but he has taken his meds every day like the goodest boy. He suffered with an enlarged heart - he had too much love for a regular one - and in the end it couldn't hold him in and it gave him up to become a dazzling shooting star that will forever remind us that true magic exists and can be found in the most unexpected places.

 

    Right now, our own hearts are broken, but we will heal and every time we look at these cartoons we will remember Leonard with smiles. I will continue to paint him, and his brothers who are with him in the Rainbow Meadows...they will always be alive for us as long as I can put pen and brush to paper. I paint with love and send it out into the Universe and share my sweet beloved cats so that anyone who sees them can add a smile to their day. 

 

    Goodnight my beautiful baby boy. Shine brightly now that you have the whole sky in which to run and play. I love you. xxx

 

 

 

Fund-Free Fun: A Little Inspiration For Creating In Frugal Times!

 

 The pandemic of 2020-2021 may have had its many frightening horrors, but one good thing it brought us was the government furlough scheme, which allowed my husband to stay at home safely with me. We enjoyed that time together so much as we are both naturally antisocial people, passing many hours with him in his garden and me in my studio. Time to play, to take our minds of bigger problems and focus on our own little universe.

    Money was tight as my work dwindled to zero and Glynn's wages took a hit so there was no extra to spend on supplies and little treats. The thing is, that to most artists the leaner days are pretty much a standard affair. Our wishlists may make us look like we're near-terminal hopeful Rockerfellers, but in reality we're usually reduced to that squeeze and scrape activity that is the 'making do' with the almost empty tubes and pots of dribblesome gunk that we've had for years. As my Grandmother would always say, "Necessity is the mother of invention."

    So I thought I'd share a couple of projects here that were good fun when the world stood still - a distraction that proved that art isn't about money or endless supplies, but more about using your own creativity to produce something from ingenuity, a sense of fun and the things you already have around you.

 

    This  here thingy was a thoroughly enjoyable little project that used up odds, ends and scraps. It really had no purpose other than, well...fun! 

    It started off as an old box from my incense sticks, cut, trimmed and prepped with black gesso. One side was to be covered with some designer paper from my [worryingly/satisfyingly substantial] stash, and the other prepped with old saved tissue paper and squidged acrylic painty base:

 

    Messy old fun.....

    Joyous texture - is there anything more satisfying?

    Everything from hereonin was just ...fun. I didn't take pictures of every step, but it wasn't complicated. I used the base as a template to cut three paper pieces which I glued onto the scrappy prepped base, then used the remnants of the acrylic paint to grunge up the edges. I had a fancy to make it look like a prop map from an old adventure movie... I LOVE those things!

    The fastening is just a circle cut from leftover cardboard covered in more leftover paint. It's glued to the top flap and two slots cut into the overlap part allow the ribbon to be threaded through, wrapped round and tied. The ribbon's an old salvaged bit of sari silk.

     I glued a couple of lengths of waxed linen thread under that cardboard disc and ferreted about in my spare beads 'n' bits drawer for some pretty twinklies to thread thereon, because there's no downside to sparkles and shiny things! I glued a couple of my [again - thousands of] hoarded pre-cut embellishments onto the back, all grunged up with increasingly dwindling paintyness that was rapidly drying in the summer heat...

    A few little faceted gems glued on, and a little heart - again made from offcuts and painted - finished things off nicely.

    The inside painting was, well, you can see.....a mermaid. I do love a mermaid! Painting/drawing/making them just makes me happy!

    She's painted with acrylic paints of varying brands.  I didn't plan her or sketch her, I just let the paint find its shape, so she's not perfect but she's fun so I love her.

    Her scales are spotted and splattered metallic shimmer paints and her shading/outline is made using Derwent Inktense pencils and a bit of water. The textured peaks in the basecoat of tissue paper are picked out a little with gilding wax (Treasure Gold) and a little very runny mica shimmer paint.

 

 

 

     Hearts float in bubbles surrounding my mermaid, matching the one she holds close to her chest. They're painted in acrylic again, with Inktense pencil and a white gel pen. 

 

    Looking at this, I think its meaning is open to interpretation - the fun of painting intuitively! I think I chose subconsciously to represent isolation and the loss of so many souls in this piece. I just painted - the mediums chose the outcome, I swear!

    I really enjoyed this project and it cost me absolutely nothing. I like things even better when they cost me nothing....AND upcycle rubbish!  

    I hope you like this and that maybe you might be inspired to have a rummage about your home and workspace and see what you can reuse and repurpose into something colourful and fun. Save your pennies - we're all feeling the cost of living pinch! Have fund-free fun and celebrate creativity for creativity's sake!

    Thank you for visiting - please say hello and if you like this post maybe have a look through the blog and maybe follow me to see upcoming rambles and colourful distractions! Much love - Shroo xxx

An Abstract Foundation

 

 

 

    In pursuing the path back into painting, I'm finding - as I always do - that leaning into the abstract is what calls to me. It's more loose, more free, more visceral. I get to FEEL the paint and the various other mediums that speak to me in the moment, and enjoy the textures and the chance combinations that are never the same twice. 

     When I was a kid I hated finger painting. Obsessed as I was with cleanliness and neatness, the idea of touching paint or chalk threw me into a very literal panic. All these - way too many - years later, I can hardly believe the pure joy it brings me to fold myself into the paints and powders and feel at one with the piece that I create. I find that I dont even care what it looks like - it's abstract and random, a product of emotion rather than planning. It's just....fun. Layer upon layer, I finish when it FEELS right rather than when it looks right.

 

 

     Once everything's dried and set solid, I can go back and explore it like a landscape. Invariably these cards and canvases become backgrounds for a more defined piece, but that sense of freedom and artistic adventure seems to determine the outcome, removing that feeling of compulsive and debilitating control that leads to artist's block and leaving me free to just...make....play....work...create. 

  

     So - get the foundation right, and the whole process becomes more organic and satisfying. Sounds like a life lesson to me...! 

 

 

     Anyway - I feel like some company, so here's one of my background-scapes with all its peaks and troughs for you to romp through. It's with it's sisters right now, awaiting its final purpose, but in the meantime it's still a glorious happy place for me to visit and bury myself in its layers and random textures

 

A Perspective On Focus

 I had a message from someone on Facebook the other day which read (I paraphrase): 

    "I'm disappointed ... you seem to produce only cat cartoons nowadays. I was hoping to see more of your proper fine art ... but you're not posting any. Why the change of direction? It's a shame to see you give up ... on a promising career. "

    Hmmm.

    In fairness, it's not the first such message I've had over the last few years and although they always make me prickle at their presumption and insensitivity, I appreciate that someone has taken time to ask - albeit bloody rudely - about my art and to express their opinions about my work. I mean... I still want to throw sharp things, but I can rationalise. Mostly.

    SO - as obviously this is an issue, allow me to address what has hitherto been a largely private matter so that I may explain the changes in my artistic direction.

    A few years ago I had a series of T.I.A.s followed by three significant strokes. Amongst other things, they affected my motor skills, depth perception and overall vision. It took a LOT of hard work and practise (and tears and cake and temper tantrums and cat cuddles) to recover and return to the fine inkwork which has been my heart's true love for over three decades. Once restored, my art propelled me to commissions, international exhibitions and plans for books and a more significant online presence in the art community. Daunting, but a dream come true.

    Then, in 2021, following a hefty dose of covid, I fell ill with worryingly familiar symptoms, culminating in what my specialist refers to as "a significant brain event". I kind of like that terminology as it implies the presence of balloons and streamers, cheesy music and the ubiquitous cake.... the reality's a bit more grim. This time, the main casualty of the brain slug insurgency was - and is -  *drumroll please* my eyesight. I'd hoped that with work it would improve as it had done before, and although it's showing some positive signs, I have a bugger of a time with my ability to focus. It's hard to explain, and long-winded, so here's a visual aid (the vague irony is not lost on me....):

    This is what I SHOULD be able to see:

...sharp, detailed and in focus. I should be able to HOLD this level of focus...HOWEVER - in any given ten second period, my focus switches to and from ANY or all of the following:

    What used to take maybe an hour now takes weeks and plagues me with headaches and nausea. I can manage maybe 15 minutes a day of any quality detail focus. 15 minutes. This work is much smaller in reality than you may think. This cat:

...is just shy of 14cm high. That's a lot of teeny weeny detail in a very small space. I can start to see the allure of digital art, as anything can be enlarged for the purpose of process and then returned to the desired display size for presentation. Maybe that'll be something I look into....

    For now though, the cat cartoons, although they take way longer than they used to, are easier for me to produce. I can still work with colour and that covers a multitude of sins! They're still fun.

    The realisation that - at least for now - I can't pursue the art that I love so deeply has been hard. I admit to a spell of hopelessness, even a slight depression. I've had to let people down, leave projects incomplete, cancel exhibitions and cancel any publication plans. However, now that I have reached a level of acceptance I am able to look into other mediums and styles which I enjoy and try to find a new 'home' for my work so that I can recover my drive and move forward. In the meantime, my cats are my transition and my ongoing therapy. I know they're loved by others as much as me and if they're a disappointment to some people then that's just not where their tastes lie, and I'm ok with that. 

   Anyway - for anyone who reads this, I hope it goes some way to explaining the changes. If you're still grumpy, I'd suggest a nice walk and a hot beverage and some deep breathing... calm it, baby.

The Ongoing Immortalisation of Mr. Gizmo

 

 

 

    It's been a funny old start to the year. I don't think any of us could have envisioned a year ago life as it is now and the series of historical world events that have marked our lives indelibly. 

    It seems that each day brings a further descent into chaos, fear and confusion, and no end is in sight - a daily viewing of the news has to be faced with a mixture of anxiety, fortitude, dread and a sinking sense of inevitability. In the midst of all of this chaos it's more important than ever to find an anchor for a sense of security in this ever howling storm. Amidst the darkness and the turbulence there has to be a calm place - somewhere small to light a candle and sit warm and safe within its reassuring glow. 

    My inspiration to make art has been, I admit, somewhat diminished since the start of the new year. I haven't made an art journal entry in ....well over a year. Has it been a year? Crap....yes...a year! That always used to be my 'go to' and I have realised that I really miss it. Not the big complicated arty farty pages, just the silly simple stuff that's just for the fun of it. I have limited mobility at the moment, so using the studio space with all the access to wondrous media is a bit of a non-starter....I have taken over space in the living room that I can use, relatively pain free, but with limited stuff-storing potential! Because of the whole space restriction thing, I've shuffled back to embroidery and I have to admit, I think it's saving my sanity! All those colours there at my fingertips ...and such a mellow process. 

    Of course, I need a subject. There's soooo much to choose from. Sooooo much.... soooooooooooo much...... But then, there's really only one subject of note that seems to take over so much of my inspiration zone: Gizmo! 

    Yes - the highly vocal old man of whiskers is becoming immortalised in a growing number of ways. I've decided that I am obviously being given a universal hint, so I'm going to run with it and create "The Nine Immortalisations of Gizmo!" So far, he's been cartooned:

....he's been inked in a fine art tribute to his Heathcliff windswept magnificence:

And now, in accordance with the directions from my self-calming muse, he has been immortalised in embroidery thread, at home amidst the winter garden foliage:

   

    He's nestled inside a 5" embroidery hoop and completed mostly in satin stitch. Gold thread picks out his glorious if craaaaazy whiskers and his permanently surprised eyebrows. His distinguished greying facial fur and manly chest fluff as well as his developing 'silver fox' moustache and beard are worn proudly as his cheery and hopeful little face looks towards the possibility of tickles, cuddles, chesty rubs and, of course, sausages. 

    (For the eagle eyed amongst you, you may notice that, in spite of a good roll with a lint brush, Leonard has found his way into the frame by means of a couple of strategic wafty Leonard fluff hairs of the very kind and variety that always seem to be present on toast, in tea and, inexplicably, in fresh, FACTORY SEALED tubs of yoghurt and tins of baked beans. Leonard is taking over, one hair at a time!)

    It's just a little project from me for my Husband who loves Gizmo so much, and whom I love beyond all bounds. It's an exceptionally tardy Yule gift! I know it's not perfect as I'm still feeling my way a little, but it was such immense fun to do and it kept me from going completely bonkers as the daily news reports burrowed through my brain like the voraciously destructive sand worms of Dune!

    Now I am inspired; back on track. I have work to do and commissions to complete, and I am back to enjoying the process and looking forward to the year ahead. I think that, when everything is overwhelming and the path forward seems unclear, the thing to do is just to take that first step.... You can do it in platform shoes, comfy slippers or wellington boots - it doesn't matter: it's the action that counts. 

    As for Mr. Gizmo Fo'Shizmo Fizzy Whizzy Doo-dah, his next immortalisation is brewing... Watch this space!

Around and Back Again

 

 

Well. Hello! 

And where the good goosedown have I been then, eh? Eh? Valid question, yes.

Well, much in solidarity with PRETTY much everyone else on Earth, things have been a bit rough this year. In short, my health has significantly deteriorated, with pain and fatigue combining to hamper progress of any sort. Now that I've finally acknowledged that I tried to 'run before I could walk', I'm taking a much more measured approach to re-booting my career. It's going to take time, otherwise I'm going to burn myself out completely. Fatigue affects everything, including my eyesight and my ability to raise my arms for a prolonged period of time - enough to draw or paint. I need to build myself up again...do it properly. Not be a dick. 

 

*Sapphira prepares herself for displays of affection*

    Partly due to being knackered, both physically and mentally and partly because the world slowed to a crawl for several months, plans to produce prints, cards, magazines and a book all had to take a back seat. The plans are still there - just at a more realistic and maintainable pace. There's no point whatsoever in dashing in, bull-at-a-gate, only to burn out a few weeks later. Instead, I have taken time to regroup, re-access my surly, elusive muse and begin again to 'put myself out there'. I've been dipping my homebody toe into international waters by entering competitions, joining groups on 'social' media and being honoured to participate in some rather awesome exhibitions both here in the UK and on other, awesome planets.

 

*Leonard's energetic rain-dance*

    Taking time off from actually making art had me twitching like a cat with angry fleas. I wasn't able to work on anything for two months. TWO MONTHS without ANY art whatsoever. TWO. MONTHS. *sigh* I admit, I was rabid. Starting again with a few little fun upcycling projects (yes, I'll blog them) was the usual mix of "YAY!" and "Nope" that greets so many of us upon returning to our art space after time away. Yes....some stuff got burned. The satisfying flambe of art that does not please or satisfy allows for the dramatic sobbing and/or ranting that accompanies the predictable self doubt of being a 'creative'. 

 

*Little Devil*

    Life returned to some semblance of normality when my husband's furlough ended and he returned to work, leaving me free to occupy my studio and finally set foot back on the path of intent. As a prompt for myself, I have happily tasked myself with producing a daily cartoon to hide inside hubby's lunch tin, under his sandwiches. His job is long and hard and something to brighten his lunch hour is the very least I can offer. Forcing my brain to think up new little doodles on a regular basis has been really useful and I feel more focussed and motivated to create.

 

*Huckleberry Gizmo*

    At the moment, I am still struggling mightily with pain management and fatigue. The General Practitioners at our local surgery are largely useless (and, on occasion, positively detrimental to survival) so I'm working on finding my own solutions. I have altered my diet and added supplements, learned more about pressure points and massage and I'm learning to listen - properly - to my body. Taking positive steps to control and balance myself has had a positive effect on my work focus and I am at the point where I can take a more considered approach to developing my career, to marketing and the functional aspects of production and distribution. At the moment, I am house bound, as we have no transport so I have to factor that in to my plan. It's a puzzle palace filled with solutions, I just have to find them. 

    I've begun again on social media and now I am dusting off my blog and enjoying the process. I am looking forward to a journey along a slower, probably more winding road, taking time to smell the roses and enjoy the views. I'd like company - so please feel free to tag along when you fancy a wander, or a chat. I'll see you aong the way.

 

Rubbish Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

What a LOAD OF RUBBISH! Something we hear from others and say ourselves all the time. It's a common enough phrase, but in the world of art it can be a serious de-motivator.

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     In an ideal world, we'd never judge anyone else's work or play favourites, but the nature of art is that it is emotive and subjective. It's ok to have an opinion and it's ok to have preferences. Ideally, unless critique is solicited, it's best to be encouraging at best and noncommittal at worst. As artists, we're all pretty darned fragile with brittle egos, and very little is required to have us plunging mentally and emotionally into a swirling abyss of self-loathing, self-doubt and despair. So why on earth do we - with gusto and spiteful relish - hurl judgement rocks at ourselves throughout our creative process? Huh?

     I'm no innocent in this. Ye gads! I have spent years and ever losing all confidence, dashing my hopes and aspirations against the rugged rocks of oblivion and plunging headlong into the storm of angsty gloom and doom with no torch or map to guide me... Seriously - the amount of art I've schlepped into the garden and burned whilst in floods of tears...Doesn't bear thinking about. Why? 

     Ok, so here are my thoughts: Artists... we're a funny bunch. I don't think that any other calling - whether it be hobbyist or professional - requires the practitioner to present heart and soul, thought and emotion, love and pain and lay it bare for dissection. To view our art is to see our innermost fragile self, the part of us that, like a child, yearns for approval. With our art we speak, we dance, we sing, we build, we create, we beautify the world. We hope and need to connect with each other to feed our creative muse, and also with the part of ourselves that helps us to navigate our way through the complex landscape of life. We hope to see recognition - a flicker of kinship - from those who share our passion. Approval of our art is also, by necessity if not by intention, approval of our essential selves.

     That's a LOT of pressure to put on others and on our own mercurial emotions, eh?

     Oftentimes, we feel perfectly fine about our work...UNTIL we see someone else's....someone who we [subjectively] deem "better" than us. We say things like, " I wish I could paint like that", or, "I could never be that good", or "I can't compete with that" - and the following thought is, "....so why should I bother?" It's that 'imposter syndrome' raising its ugly, nagging little head.

     Now is the PERFECT time to utter the phrase: "WHAT A LOAD OF RUBBISH!"

     Nonsense indeed! There are MANY artists I admire, whose works and styles have influenced my path as an artist. I have wasted a crazy amount of time comparing my work to theirs, weighing up skill levels and grading myself poorly. Why? Really - WHY? A huge influence for me was a spectacular artist called Bernie Wrightson (go Google the man - he's worth it, or you can read an article I wrote back on my old blog HERE). I first encountered his work as a young teen and from that second on I have been captivated by ink and line work. Look...here's an example of his work, from his series of illustrations for 'Frankenstein':

....mmm-hmmm. Yep. It blew my mind when I read that after over seven years of crippling work on these illustrations all he could see were the "flaws". HE.....thought HE wasn't good enough! Mind officially hanging in tatters....

     It's really not about being "as good as" or "better than" someone else, it's about the process: seeing, learning, practising, enjoying. Be proud of every line, every scratch, every blob, smear, smudge and spill. When something doesn't go to plan, shrug and make it something else. It's only paper. It's only paint. Start again. Use the old piece to inspire a new one. If we were all perfect we'd lose our creativity. We are as much a product of our mistakes as our successes. We're not robots on a production line - we are heart, we are fury, we are sadness, we are joy....we are laughter, pain, love, loss, sorrow, delight, fragility and strength. We are imperfect creatures - rejoice in the reflection of your imperfection.

     Lastly, and this is a personal one, so it won't apply across the board, but here goes. I recently had a series of significant strokes. The effects were ranging in severity, but amongst them was a partial loss of sight, depth perception and basic motor control in my hands and arms. I couldn't grip a pen, see the paper in front of me or raise my arm long enough to scratch my nose, let alone draw a picture. The depression that followed the strokes was crippling and motivation was lacking to say the least.

     Thankfully, I am a completely, objectionably, irritatingly stubborn pain-in-the-arse! One day I picked up a pencil and started making what marks I could on sheet after sheet of paper. It hurt my hand, my arm, my shoulder and I ended up with a headache that would floor a rhino....and I cried. And cried...and cried...and swore a lot, had a good few very over-the-top tantrums, but I kept picking up that pencil. When I started I couldn't hit the paper with a barn door..then I could. I couldn't draw a circle or a square.....then I could. I couldn't control the pencil.....then I could. And so on....

     The word "can't" is no longer part of my chosen vocabulary. The work I do now I could never have dreamed of doing two years ago. I have some way to go and I have so much to improve, and I know I'll make mistakes.... But long may I be able to make them. 

     To sum up - stop feeding cream cakes and chocolate to your inner critic.... it just gains more weight! It can feed from the big bag of "shush!" you know it deserves. Let your muse out to play. She's a flighty one - a bit of a flake - but if you allow her to waltz to the music of your heart she will lead you through the brightest, most beautiful dance of your life.

     And that's really not a load of rubbish.

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