The Usual Suspects

 Hello lovelies!

    A little piccy for you in the "lunch tin" line - a certain group of suspicious miscreants who seem more than happy to pose for a line up.  None of them have an overwhelming sense of innocence...rather a worryingly confident and provocative air that strongly implies shennanigans! 

    Leonard, Gizmo, Missy, Sapphira.....which one dunnit?

When The Parade Passes By....

Hello Lovelies!

    Well, for those of you who choose to swing by and pass a little time here, I thought I'd share the little extra illustration created for the CAC 'All Souls' exhibition in Texas. I wanted our fur babies to totally represent, so I dressed them up for the occasion and sent them parading through the crowded streets of Mexico to celebrate La Dia De Los Muertos with everyone else. As you can see, they had a whale of a time....

    A little A4 size watercolour and ink piece with the bright colours that are abundant in this celebration, set against a night sky illuminated with flares from fireworks scattering sparks upon the merry band.

    Thank you for visiting! Hope I see you here again soon xxx

'Vida Y Muerte' - A Soul Work Complete

 

Hello Lovelies! 

Posh post time. I was honoured recently to accept a generous invitation to show some of my work at the All Souls exhibition at the Cultural Arts  Centre in Temple, Texas. Going along with my resolve to follow a more intuitively creative path, I've chosen to stretch my creative focus by using exhibitions and competitions as practise in working to a brief. The following piece is my primary entry and is entitled "Vida Y Muerte" . It's just shy of 50cm square, took 48 hours to complete and is drawn with a nib pen and Indian ink, with Windsor and Newton coloured inks, chosen for their transparency and vibrancy. During the process I went through the usual stages of frustration and angst-ridden doubt, but when all is done I confess to being rather pleased with the result.

    I wrote a perfectly acceptable explanation of all the bits and pieces and thought processes contained in the drawing so I have copied and pasted them below, along with some hopefully useful close-ups of the work itself. Hope you enjoy the art and if you have questions go ahead and leave a comment - I'll look forward to hearing from you!

 

 

 As always with my work it is loaded with symbolism. The cat represents La Santa Muerte with her crown and solemn expression, gazing on her destination in the afterlife even whilst journeying through our realm.

  

 A cat was chosen as a symbol of that gateway between worlds, and the picture is taken from reference of a stray cat I used to feed many years ago. She was old, but tough, and although she looked like she'd been through the wars, she carried herself with dignity. I wanted to reflect her stubborn and enclosed, self posessed beauty.

 

 

 

 The 'crown' is represented with twigs (a nod to my own pagan beliefs) but each stark branch carries buds which promise new life. Some bear berries - again the promise of new life but I wanted to add the spirals as a recognition that even this solemn event - La Dia De Los Muertos - carries with it an element of fun and celebration. Also, they lend just a little to my love of Tim Burton's twisted vision of another, darker world.

 

 

 

The butterflies represent souls, and a metamorphosis from one state of being to the next: a sense of becoming something more... The Monarch especially is closely linked with the celebration as its migration patterns and routes coincide and their colour is added to an already splendid array. The coloured inks have a very slightly raw and garish aspect which was carefully considered - I didn't want subtlety in shade, more an explosion of vivid light.

 

 

 

The flowers represented are featured heavily in the traditional ceremonies - with the exeption of anemonies.

 

 

 They have been added because when my grandmother died, my mum dressed her hair with them. The headdresses worn by women during La Dia De Los Muetos remind me very much of that snapshot in time. They remind me of death and the passing of a loved one. They remind me that beauty and dignity are present even in dark times. 

 

 

The snake is a common symbolic figure in many mythologies, here chosen to represent deceipt on one hand, and healing on the other. Its inclusion is meant to add a sense of power and presence, and is a play on the character of La Catrina, a richly dressed pastiche of rich women, often featured wearing a boa. The cat is wearing a boa. The snake's tongue curls round the fur and decorations eventually becoming the tail and body of the creature, my interpretation of the ouroboros, symbolising infinity and the cycle between birth and death. It is adorned with the markings of a traditional sugar skull and features a marigold on its back, a flower used to decorate graves and attract the spirits of the ancestors. Unlike the other flowers, its stylised design lends itself to the pattern of the scales of the boa.

 

 

 

I wanted to add bones... a bird skull chose itself, selected by my subconscious. Once it was drawn I considered the meaning: not only are birds the prey of cats (seems relevant, given the main subject) but also - I have always held with the superstition that if a wild bird flies into the house, it signifies a death on the way. I don't have many superstitions but this one was passed down the family line for generations.

This was something of a labour of love in the end, and a little voyage of discovery and fascinating introspection which is something I love about an intuitive approach to art.

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.

 

A Fragment of Inspiration

So many ways to find inspiration. 

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     From journaling daily life events to illustrating inspirational quotes, celebrating nature, loving your pets, your family; sharing spirit or faith or recording dreams, there are so many ways to bring art into our everyday lives. One of my favourites is to illustrate a favourite poem and disappear into the lines and words; lose myself in a more eloquent space and find peace. 

 

This was a [kind of stream of consciousness] doodle based on Samuel Taylor Coleridge's 'Kubla Khan'. I've not had time (or will) to paint or draw this week having been alternately rushed off my feet dealing with problem after problem, or too knackered to move. Searching for some sense of solace and feeling of regeneration I took time to look through my older journal/inspiration pages and found this doodly brain ramble. 

 

     Tracing the lines with my eyes I took time to breathe and recite the poem - a long time favourite - in my mind. The words work like a spell, conjuring magical images which fire and spark in my brain and before I know it my muse has begun her wild and intricate dance again. I have an urge to read poetry and make marks with colourful things. 

 

     Whatever ignites your passion, whatever makes you laugh - or cry - take a moment to record the moment and expand your creative world...there will come a time when you may need to make a withdrawal from your artistic bank account, and every deposit pays out with interest!

*  *  *

Kubla Khan

By Samuel Taylor Coleridge

 

Or, a vision in a dream. A Fragment.

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure-dome decree:

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

Through caverns measureless to man

   Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground

With walls and towers were girdled round;

And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,

Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;

And here were forests ancient as the hills,

Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted

Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!

A savage place! as holy and enchanted

As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted

By woman wailing for her demon-lover!

And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,

As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,

A mighty fountain momently was forced:

Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst

Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,

Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:

And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever

It flung up momently the sacred river.

Five miles meandering with a mazy motion

Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,

Then reached the caverns measureless to man,

And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean;

And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far

Ancestral voices prophesying war!

   The shadow of the dome of pleasure

   Floated midway on the waves;

   Where was heard the mingled measure

   From the fountain and the caves.

It was a miracle of rare device,

A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

   A damsel with a dulcimer

   In a vision once I saw:

   It was an Abyssinian maid

   And on her dulcimer she played,

   Singing of Mount Abora.

   Could I revive within me

   Her symphony and song,

   To such a deep delight ’twould win me,

That with music loud and long,

I would build that dome in air,

That sunny dome! those caves of ice!

And all who heard should see them there,

And all should cry, Beware! Beware!

His flashing eyes, his floating hair!

Weave a circle round him thrice,

And close your eyes with holy dread

For he on honey-dew hath fed,

And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Alarming Lumps

When life gives you lumps, make journal pages.

*   *   *

     Well it makes sense to me... And it's true - there are times when an art journal page can be the best gateway for self expression and catharsis. The awesome thing about art journaling is that there are no rights or wrongs, no judgement and no rules. Grab a piece of paper, card, slow moving child, very tired lion and decorate it with all manner of shiny things until it represents or reflects your mind/heart/dreams/state of being/craving for chocolate/desire to instigate a zombie apocalypse and hey presto! You've taken something abstract and ephemeral and given it form and substance.

     This is my page of cacti....big, pointy, spiky things with lumps. They're not everybody's cup of sneaky Irish coffee, but I love the prickly critters. They may look like angry harbingers of stabby pain, but just when things may be at their worst, as rain pours down from stormy skies, beautiful flowers in the brightest most glorious hues burst forth from the ugly and alarming lumps, turning the darkest day into a carnival and colour - hope and joy from something so intimidating.

     .....When I paint a page like this I have no real idea how or why I choose the direction and the form. I make marks that make me feel better, that provide affirmation and release. Only when the page is complete can I sit back and take stock, view it as a whole and finally find the meaning. It's not a process that suits everyone, I know, but to go with the flow - to allow the process to lead me rather than trying to force my hand to interpret my fluid mind - just works for me.  So, when I paint a page of lumpy cacti the day before I go for an emergency mammogram, having found a lump in my booby-boob, I just have to appreciate how this whole thing works. I painted the flowers.

     Cancer took my family, my pets, my friends. It is my nemesis and I hate it with a vengeance. The feeling that it may have gained a foothold inside my body isn't easily put into words. But I can paint a picture... At face value it means nothing to anyone but me, but isn't that the point? Finishing it last night somehow made me ready to face today, ready for a showdown if one be needed. I had made my mark - a part of me existed outside of myself in defiance of the alien existing unidentified within me. My cacti have big spikes; I see them as a "fuck you" to the possibility of cancer breaching my defenses. I have felt small and afraid, but I am strong and spiky, and I bloom brightly in the harshest of environments.

     I do NOT have cancer. My lump is benign - a zombie in my chest, but one that's likely harmless. I have more check-ups, but cancer can't touch me right now. My spiky defenses are in place and holding and my colours aren't dimmed....not for an instant. Fuck you, cancer.

     I have a vegan zombie boob. Hurrah for vegan zombie boobs! I may paint a version, I may not....knowing me I will actually paint my actual boobs - something that I assure you will most definitely NOT be appearing on a blog post! Art is self-expression as much as it is skill, style and technique. Long live every page, every graffiti-adorned majestic lion, every be-glittered toddler...long live every mark we make....we give them worth, they give us meaning. May we bloom like a cactus. May our strength be our beauty. Kick arse, we're awesome.