Not getting a real job

Doors open, doors close

2012-01-26T12:22:00.000Z

Despite his laid back attitude, Gimlet has been causing trouble again. We have had problems in the past with him bringing in dead things. Well now he has stopped doing this, and decided it is far more fun to bring in live things. Mice to be specific. After all, its not much fun outdoors; he is as fast as lightening, they don't stand a chance. How much more pleasant to chase them around indoors where they can hide up under the tv or food cupboards, hours of fun, plus its warm. Bonus, as the teen would say!

Well after about 5 mice in 2 weeks (one on my birthday and he didn't even wrap it) we have all had enough. Well Gimlet hasn't had enough, but despite what he may think, the humans are in charge (mostly). The cat flap has been locked to 'out only'; no more 5am mouse chasing, at least not in the house.

The human doors are changing too. Out with the delightful doors that were here when we moved in:

And in with the new solid pine ones:

It's amazing the difference changing the doors can make to a house. Now just the rest of the decor to deal with.

As for the business of art, each year I tend to have a bit of a plan for moving my work forwards, last year of course it was 'build big studio in garden year'. This year I want to get internet sales. It is notoriously difficult to sell artwork online, but I am determined.

So the internet is the answer and this year it is what I am working on. There is much more to selling online than simply listing the stuff. Photographs must be immaculate, networking and cooperation with other artists and crafters is a must, as is promotion via social networks and image bucket sites. Then there is 'SEO', or search engine optimization for those who actually have a life. So this week it was time to open a shop on Etsy, a US based site that is the worlds largest market place for handmade and vintage goods.

Here are two of my first listings on Etsy, recently finished mosaics:

Cream and Red Valentines Heart Mosaic

Yellow star with blue background Mosaic Panel

Many hours are being spent on the computer... time will tell if it pays off for me!

January Sales

2012-01-19T10:55:00.000Z

Despite the recession, (which I keep hearing about on the news), myself and all the other people I know in business are very busy, which makes no sense perhaps, but there it is. I was putting off picking up my snow scene painting, due to high winds and rain on the day it was due to be collected, only to discover that it had sold! Of course galleries tend not to tell you when things sell, until you arrive to pick up, so I suspect this was actually a December sale.

A week later and a call from another gallery informs me that this one has sold in Bury St Edmunds. It is one of my absolute favorites, and I think it has quite a modern look, but I was unsure of how commercial it was.

The fact that it sold fairly quickly means my decision to have some giclee prints made was hopefully a good one. Since then I have sold a couple of other prints, proving that some people at least have a little spare money in January.

Those people would not include me, as after several months of saving my pennies I bought this in the January sales:

It is beautiful, lights up, plays cute tunes when your laundry is finished and is actually quite good at washing clothes. It has a steam function which 'freshens' clothes for 20 minutes, meaning that teenage jeans worn for half an hour and dumped on the floor no longer have to go through a full wash cycle. The drum is twice the size of the last machine (which regularly ate the teen's small trainer socks) and for the first time ever I am up to date with the laundry. Boyfriend is horrified at how much I paid for it, and I am shockingly unrepentant.

When not trying to talk me out of buying expensive white (er silver-grey) goods boyfriend finished the tiling of the kitchen floor, and also started hanging the new internal pine doors.

He has done a fabulous job and it looks stunning, unlike the rest of the kitchen. It is lethal when wet however and when I inevitably slipped over the teen had some advice:
"Don't wish to offend," (She always says this just before saying something offensive) "But it's your age..." "someone young like me has an inbuilt sense of balance"
Fantastic. Now I just have to wait for her to fall over, and she will. Revenge shall be mine.

So, any art this month? Well yes, in between wrapping a ton of limited editions and driving them out to various venues I continued work on the mosaics, and the first one is finished:

Obviously I am hoping for a valentines sale, after all, that dishwasher I want isn't going to pay for itself!

Merry Floor Tiling and a Happy New Job

2012-01-05T10:48:00.000Z

Too much sherry Gimlet?

Well, Christmas and New Year have passed here with little event, because we are mostly still caught up in the DIY maelstrom. We did, however, get the best present: boyfriend got a new job. It is super news that he has been offered a job about 15 minutes away in one of the local silk mills. Surprisingly it is similar work to his previous job in a paper mill, with no night shift. It is not fantastic money to start with, but we couldn’t be happier that it is so close to home, and the petrol savings will be significant, we may even share a car eventually.

Meantime he has been putting to good use all the construction training he did whilst off work, starting with tiling the entire kitchen and new extension floor. This is a huge task, the kitchen (which was previously two smaller rooms) is not level, and the entire area covers 24m square. Floor levelling:

The worst thing about this has been the loss of my cooker (and indeed kitchen) and a few days ago the TV was buried behind the second sofa, the dresser and a freestanding kitchen unit being in the lounge, the cooker and a large cupboard were in a hallway, the fridge and freezer were in the extension and numerous food items in boxes distributed between the teen’s room (some chocolate biscuits were never seen again) and the spare bedroom. The teen started every sentence with the words “Where is?” as I explained for the umpteenth time that I didn’t know where anything was and she would have to search like the rest of us. I am sure that most households mislay things, like the remote or the car keys but when you have to look for stuff like the fridge and the cat you do start to question reality.

The new tiles go down:

And the contents of the kitchen move around the house:

I have been known to complain in the most scathing manner about the cheap gas cooker we inherited with the house, and simply cooking dinner on this loathsome item is like going into battle. However after 5 days of microwave dinners I am so please to have it back. Being a strict vegetarian and wheat intolerant, the selection of food available for microwaving is rather limited. The teen was also horrified not to receive her usual home cooked food, and in particular voiced her disgust at having to eat ready-made cheese sauce on her pasta. I really hope she marries a millionaire, or life is going to come as a big shock.

One thing I did manage over Christmas was to spring clean and clear out the studio, the amount of clutter I had acquired in just under a year was amazing to behold.

So the big question is; did I manage any artwork? Surprisingly I am nearly finished a large Watercolour and several mosaics are in progress:

I was also delighted to discover I had sold this original watercolour in a local gallery!

It is back to ‘proper’ work this week with the resumption of my Saturday art classes, and lots of bookings for January for private students, including a couple of new people.

Happy New Year all, let’s hope it is an extraordinary one for all of us.

Things to do in the cold

2011-12-06T12:40:00.000Z

One of the things you can do in the cold is to wear a hat: Here is the teen modelling her favourite battered used-to-be-black-before-it-faded trilby. Worn with hoody and turquoise braces, Yves Saint Laurent watch your back...

Gimlet has also been keeping warm. A few weeks ago boyfriend bought him a new soft basket; Gimlet treated it with the contempt he felt it deserved and ignored it. Then we had the idea of putting it under a radiator, and it became suddenly more desirable.

I myself was persuaded to do a craft fair for a day. I had reservations, having done a few of them years ago. My main problem with them is that the same people who will happily part with £300 in an art gallery don't want to be parted from a fiver at a craft fair. But I already sell prints at the craft barn where the fair was to be held, and the owner is lovely so I gave it a go:

Held in what was called a 'heated marqee', and which I absolutely knew would actually mean 'cold drafty tent', I enjoyed it more than I thought I might. The fair itself had problems, the marquee, although new, suffered from a build up of condensation in the middle of the roof, causing indoor rain as the wind ruffled the fabric. Several sellers abandoned ship, particularly badly affected were the girls next to me selling soap and bath bombs and a chap with unwrapped greetings cards. Most of my stuff was cellophane wrapped so I avoided any stock damage. The unpleasant weather meant few visitors and some people lost their table money. However, despite all this, and freezing feet, I sold 3 prints and several cards and tags, met some interesting contacts and made a reasonable profit. I may even do another (in warmer weather!)

Back at home work continued apace, with door frames, electrics and plumbing.

After the usual extended bickering resulting from me wanting my own way and boyfriend not giving in quick enough, we finally ended up in B&Q looking at internal doors. Loading his estate car with two doors meant the seats were so far forwards and upright that boyfriend was unable to drive his own car. So with me driving (knees in sideways position above pedals, boyfriend's head rammed against roof/sun-visor) we set off. Changing gears was challenging and as we kangaroo jumped through Colchester boyfriend said 'Stop drawing attention to us!". Luckily the police were elsewhere and we made it home with the doors in better condition than our spines.

By now front of the house now looked splendid with a proper garage:

And it was left to us to remove the large pre-fab garage that takes up half the back garden, here it is in all its glory:

And here it is gone:

Apparently there is a market on eBay for it, obviously some people care more for sturdy storage than asthetics. The back garden seems huge now it has gone:

Although it is not perhaps the haven of vegetables, flowers and water features I imagine, it is at least a blank canvas, and one that no longer contains the worlds ugliest garage. I will see you at the garden centre in the spring!

Halloween, Cats and Brick Dust...

2011-11-10T14:54:00.000Z

As you can see from the photo, this year's pumpkin, although hastily done, had a cat theme. The teen drew the shapes and I cut the pumpkin.

The teen gets on well with the cat, who lives rent free, does as he pleases, is intermittently crazy, grumpy and completely self obsessed...

Hang on, I have lost my thread... was I talking about cats or teenagers? Hmmm

Moving on then, the cat above was discovered in Wivenhoe Station. Popping in to use the facilities whilst dropping artwork off locally, boyfriend and I were delighted to find a real big old station cat; living in the waiting room, with blankets, food bowls, scratching post and sleeping chair, all just feet from the platform where trains roared past. How wonderful!

Back home and the building work continues at speed, frequently filling the downstairs with brick dust. I am cleaning about 10 times more than usual and yet the house is at least 20 times dirtier than normal. In the words of the teen: Fail.

Foundations done, walls and roof are built.

For the first time it starts to resemble a building:

When the new back doorway goes in, it is time to brick up the old doorway and replace it with a window. (Cue dust)

The front begins to resemble the garage it will become:

(Note the front door looking somewhat the worse for wear...)

Internal door frame goes in, along with outrageously expensive electric Velux window (it comes with a dvd to instruct on the use of, I kid you not, despite the fact that I only need it to do two things: Open and Shut). The plumber re-routes the gas boiler to exit the garage roof (more dust). Next morning the builder does not realise that there is a gap round the flue and uses an angle grinder setting off a massive cloud of dust and flakes of wall insulation that shoots into the kitchen and spreads through the downstairs. What fun, more cleaning, lucky me.

In order that I don't miss the dust at the weekend, boyfriend kindly sets to moving the sink to make way for a door into the extension, and re-sites it temporarily under the new back kitchen window:

Then he sets to digging up the kitchen floor to bury some electrical cable and pipework, to be continued this coming weekend. So I haven't seen the last of the dust yet, not by a long way I fear...

You will notice there is very little artwork being produced! I have been doing some printmaking but despite having a seperate studio the constant dust, builders-tea making and car crash of a kitchen is taking it's toll on work production. Still the end is in sight, I can just see it through that cloud of brick dust.

Extension update!

2011-10-27T12:46:00.000+01:00

As I mentioned in my last post, there has been a lot going on here at home. So I thought I would take this opportunity to catalogue some of the progress.

After months awaiting the proper council authorities to grind slowly through the business of dealing with the application to build our new garage extension/laundry room/shower room, and then the dreaded 'Party Wall Agreement' with the neighbours, not to mention parting with several thousand pounds for all of this it was time to start. And after all that waiting, the builders arrived and they are pretty darn fast. Fueled by tea and Radio 2, work started:

Having dug down, concrete was then poured into the foundations:

Then the base was made ready, along with the drains, and more concrete poured:

Now we were at floor level, and it was time to start going UP!

Yes that is a specially designed cat tunnel, ready for cat flap, for the most pampered puss in Suffolk. I didn't want to ruin our new door by cutting through it, so the cat gets his own door!

Speaking of new doors, whilst all this was going on, the window fitters arrived to put new windows and back doors into the house. The dust levels increased massively, and I am still finding it in the saucepans. It has become second nature to clean everything before using it...

As I write this the builders are already up to roof level, more photos to come soon, and everything crossed that the good weather continues to hold.

Discomfort has been minimised by practically living in the studio, and here are some lovely flowers, bought by my art class as a thank you for organising the Gallery 47 exhibition.

Final sales tally was:

6 framed paintings, one unframed original, 3 prints, 2 cards, 1 pack of tags.

Well done everyone!

Gallery 47

2011-10-17T11:06:00.000+01:00

It has been far too long since my last blog post and I have a ton of news, both about the changes to the house and about work, but I will confine this post to one subject: My exhibition with my students at Gallery 47 in Sudbury!

After half a year preparation we finally hit the last two weeks. A last minute panic ensued as I tried to get 14 people working as one to have work listed, labelled, delivered and hung on time, with associated publicity and private view evening. As well as keeping up with my existing commitments and work, making endless cups of tea for builders and window fitters and trying to cook in a kitchen coated in brick dust.

10 hour work days ensued, days off and gym trips ceased and much junk food was consumed. After weeks of hassling my students to get their work ready on time, it suddenly dawned on me that I didn't have enough of my own, already being commited to several other exhibitions this month. Time to finish a couple of quick mosaics:

Inspired by starfish in various shapes, a 'Cushion Starfish' in pinks, greys and browns:

And a 'Spiny Starfish in orange on white:

Then last minute, some of my new linoprint gift tags, decorated with collage and sequins:

And suddenly, after a summer of absence, the temperatures took a dive, and look who is back on his window seat blanket! Yes Gimlet has returned to the studio...

At last everything was ready, and about half the class and myself set about hanging the exhibition. After 2 hours, working in little groups we somehow pulled it together and it looked fantastic:

Final tweeks were make to hanging systems, glass was cleaned and numbers were applied.

At last it was time to hold the private view. Everyone showed up at once and the wine glasses ran out immediately. I phoned home and got boyfriend to put every glass in the house in a box and drive it down. My mum, the teen and some of the students ferried glasses, cleaned up mess and poured wine. It was busy, lively, everyone agreed the exhibition looked great and despite the recession, sales were made. At the end of it all I felt like I needed to sleep for a week!

Teenage literature and new work

2011-09-30T14:06:00.000+01:00

This photo was taken by my boyfriend to include my two very tall sunflowers. The shorter one was actually larger, but with complete ingratitude for my tender care has decided to face daily into the neighbours garden.

Today I have a new Teenism to share. For the uninitiated a 'teenism' is when your otherwise literate teen just gets their words in a pickle:

Here we have the teen, fresh back from a trip to Holland with her father:

"I love Dutch cheese, especially Gandhi"

Me: "Do you mean Gouda?"

"Er yeah, probably..."

If you love teenisms and laughing at, I mean with, teenagers I can recommend Dawn French's first novel 'A tiny bit marvellous' . It's not normally the sort of book I read, and I bought it on a whim, but she has captured the 'facebook generation' to such perfection, it's hysterical. Unless you are the teenage daughter in the book, when it's probably "like SO unfair".

When not reading I have been frantically making new work for the various exhibitions I am participating in during October:

This is the second piece to go with the snowscene for 'Visions of Sudbury':

And then there was a lino print for the Gainsborough's House Printmakers exhibition. Unusually for them it was a selected exhibition, and after my initial disappointment when I received an email saying both my works had been rejected, there came an hour later a phone call, saying they had made a mistake and one had got in!

This was the design, a linocut with collage. I made it in four colours with different collage materials for each, and the one that was accepted was a nice blue. I was unashamedly aiming it at the sort of people who love Ikea. Nothing wrong with a bit of Ikea of course. I was delighted to get into the exhibition because firstly I didn't know anyone on the selection committee (!) and secondly I only dabble in printmaking, and many of the other entrants do it full time to a shockingly high standard.

I also made another series of little prints, inspired by some nautical stamps I found in a local shop.

This one was also made in four different colours, and is the first in a new venture for me. I am calling it A4 Art, as the mount is designed to fit directly into any standard A4 frame. It worked well despite the fact that it required some maths to figure out the sizing. Basic maths of course, but unlike the teen basic maths is about all I can do. We shall see if this idea is a help in increasing sales, I am hopeful they will do well.

Next week is all about finalising the Gallery 47 Exhibition I am running with my Saturday class, which is approaching rapidly!

Interviewed!

2011-09-12T11:16:00.002+01:00

Just a quick link today. Last week I was interviewed by Hannah Robinson, illustrator for her blog. She was gracious and lovely, and for anyone who wants to read the answers I gave to her fun and interesting questions please click here.

It's a great read, the part where I relate wrestling that escaped tiger to the ground in Waitrose car park is especially good...

Summer Days Out and Winter Snow Scenes

2011-08-22T11:26:00.000+01:00

Despite it being summer, an artist is always working ahead, and the next big lot of exhibitions are in October. Foremost in my mind is Visions of Sudbury, which is run every two years in St Peters in the centre of Sudbury. It is open to amateurs and professionals, 2 works can be entered, any medium, but it must depict, well, Sudbury. Wanting to make an impact this year I set about getting bigger boards cut, and for the first work decided on a picture of a frozen stream from a photo I took in last year's snow falls. It's a classic view of the coloured cottages near the Mill Hotel, and normally I avoid painting them as they tend to look too twee for my tastes. But I liked the look of them in the snow, so here it is, 50cm square, and I am about to start another, similar size, but in landscape format of a slightly different view of the meadows, with the cattle on. Big is beautiful they say, so we shall see...

It was somewhat surreal painting snow in the sun, but at least Gimlet knew what to do. He found the perfect sun protector in the form of the huge Rhubarb leaves by the studio...

The teen is enjoying her hols, and after 10 days with the grandparents stopped off home to pick up her passport for a trip to Holland with her father. She was home less than 24 hours and didn't even unpack. "you might as well have just driven past slowly and waved!" I said... It is gsce results time this week, and I have instructions to collect them and text my daughter. I am dreading this chore; if the tv news is to be believed I will be surrounded by alternately screeching and sobbing teenagers. I aim to get in and out fast, before the endemic hysteria gets to me.

The trips out with Saturday class members continued with our visit to the Tate Britain Watercolour Exhibition. Myself and 5 others traveled to London, organised by one of my students (also a policeman!) He did a fine job of keeping 5 chattering women under control as we made our way into London. Even before we got to the Tate there was art all around us. Even seemingly boring buildings were dripping with interesting details when you looked closely:

Photos were forbidden in the actual exhibition, but I can recommend it, the works were stunning and spanned several centuries and many styles. My only disappointment was with the 'modern' works; a plastic teaspoon dipped in paint and mounted on the wall, a couple of twigs smeared with Gouache... as usual the many and varied modern works in this medium were ignored in favour of the infamous like Tracy Emin, who had four small watercolours. Each looked like the marks left if I don't wipe up after making coffee, but then what do I know?

Next after our jaunt into London, and closer to home was Polstead Church. A fabulous place to paint, I regretted that I only had time for a sketch and some photos before I had to return to teach a private student in the studio. But I hope to return to the subject. Here was the view:

The gravestones were fascinating, and someone immediately spotted a small stone and poem dedicated to ornithologist and bird mimic Percy Edwards, while I was fascinated by this stone:

A few minutes on Google told me that Brian Hagger made a bit of a name for himself painting London scenes, although why he is buried in Polstead is not clear. It makes me wonder who else is tucked away in this little churchyard, I certainly intend to re-visit.

Meanwhile at home it is all change, and whilst waiting for his next set of training courses to start, boyfriend has been preparing for our extension build. Part of this is our plan to knock down the kitchen wall to change to poky kitchen into a large kitchen/diner. The wall came down fine, and the only problem is the old gas pipe it left behind, which a plumber will need to deal with:

So now we have a trench in the middle of the floor, and a pipe sticking up. But I really don't care, the kitchen simply can't get any worse, and the bigger space is exciting after the tiny kitchen. Onwards and upwards!

Farm yard fun!

2011-08-02T14:14:00.000+01:00

No it's not an Emu, an Ostrich or a Dodo... it's a Rhea!

On Saturday my weekly class had their first informal meet up for untutored painting, face stuffing and general silliness. We were invited by the lovely people at Assington Farm Shop/Artisans Tea Rooms. There were noisy geese, a sweet pigmy goat, some cows and best of all the Rhea's who were very amusing. They did not keep still for a second, and pecked curiously at anything that got too close, including my camera and drawing board. I could only stay for a couple of hours due to having some private students to teach in the afternoon. But after walking up and down, imploring the big birds to "stand still" or "move that back foot" I managed a sketch, and after an hour had a passable watercolour sketch (unfinished.)

Back in the studio I have been making mosaics and now have three small ones to add to my exhibition tally:

A blue heart:

A butterfly with grey grout:

And a panel with sea shells and cream grout:

Finally time to share some other people's art; and here is a fabulous collage from one of my Saturday Students:

Started in pastels, but L always gets carried away into the world of mixed media and can never resist trying something a little different, this time using some pictures of local allotments to add to her painting and the result was really successful.

L is a teacher at the Ryes School for troubled and vulnerable children and teens, and here is a painting by Rody, who has much difficulty focusing and concentrating. Apparently it took about a month of working in little 5 minute slots until it was done. He can be very proud of the results.

Hollyhocks Done!

2011-07-15T11:14:00.000+01:00

The above title should be read in the style of Gordon Ramsay obviously...

Just a quick post to show my latest painting. Started at Layer Marney Towers on Art Sunday, I painted the purple, white and dark pink flowers in situ, the leaves, foliage and pale pink flowers were added from photos and reference material, the background and sky came out of my imagination.

Overall I am pleased with it, I have not often managed to do these type of backgrounds successfully, so it was a bit of a risk, but I am (for good or bad) a bit of a risk taker, so after a bit of umming and some aahing I just went for it. It continues on from my last painting of the tree up close with landscape behind, a composition that always interests me. The flowers were more successful for being done from life; and the finished work will be heading for the framers shortly. I am very relieved to have a painting finished, after all the weeks of illustrating, as several exhibitions loom. Just got to do another 10 or so now, onwards and upwards...

Thunderbugs are go!

2011-07-12T11:18:00.000+01:00

I don't know what they call them in your part of the woods; when I lived in the Midlands they called them Harvest mites, here in Suffolk they call them Thunderbugs, in tribute to their appearance on particularly hot, humid days. I am talking about the little creatures that look like a short black 1mm pen mark, and there is no defence against them.

A week or so ago, we were in the middle of roasting temperatures, and in the studio it got up to 36 degrees. A little too hot of course, but as someone who complains about the cold for 99% of the year, I feel I should grin and bear it. I opened the doors and windows in the studio to let the air in, drank plenty of water and all was fine. Until they arrived.

They started in ones and twos, landing on the paper I was working on, then irritating me by crawling over my face. By lunchtime they were marching in and out of the paint, across my glasses, and crawling over my arms and through my hair. The itching was unbearable, I was swearing loudly and on any other day I would have made a quick exit, but I was on a deadline for a set of illustrations of Milan:

Lots of smart buildings and statues...

Italian cars, scooter riders and of course Polizia...

And whilst Thunderbugs are annoying, they are too small to damage the artwork, although my oil painter friend has had far greater problems of course, oil paint being so sticky. By 4pm the work was finished and so was I. Running into the house I filled the sink with water, and splashed it over my face and arms, it ran down my t-shirt in dark patches, making my hair stick up, but I didn't care. As I walked into the kitchen the teen entered with a friend who had come for tea, and exchanged 'Mad Woman' looks.

Finished at last!

Rain the next day dampened them down, although I am still finding dead ones on every surface in the studio.

Last Sunday I went with two of my students to paint in Layer Marney Tower grounds, near Colchester.

Deciding I would not have time to do the building, I sat down near a selection of beautiful Hollihocks in the flowerbed and attempted to do them justice. Again the Thunderbugs arrived... After a couple of hours we decided to go and look around and talk to the artists exhibiting indoors. I had been invited to display work/demonstrate inside the long gallery, but had declined due to most of my artwork being displayed elsewhere. I enjoyed talking to the other artists, some of who I know, but the most striking thing was the absence of Thunderbugs indoors... I am pretty sure where I will be next year, and it won't be in the flowerbeds!

The painting of Hollihocks is still work in progress, and after a few days doing some additional illustrations for the previous Cardiff project, needed to appease the Welsh Tourist Board (who seem rather fussy), I am looking forward to finishing my flower painting.

Teenisms

2011-06-13T11:18:00.000+01:00

The teen grows ever more intelligent and literate, having now mastered sarcasm, snide and presently studying irony. However, sometimes she just gets words wrong, usually during dinner time conversations, to hilarious effect. I couldn't let the following go unpublished:

The teen on ancient history:

"...you know, in Egypt, during the time of the fairies..."

On her desire to receive regular copies of her favourite science magazine:

"When are you going to get me a prescription to that magazine??"

And finally a surreal one: When being handed her dinner of fried rice and vegetables:

"Aaw, not casserole AGAIN" (followed quick as a flash by boyfriend "Aaw not Duck a L'orange' AGAIN...)

It is remarks like this keep us all laughing during dinner.

Back with work, I have had my first success during the summer round of exhibiting: the first sale of one of my set of Pied Wagtail Monoprints. Stupidly and rarely for me, I forgot to photograph the one that sold, something I am normally quite obsessive about, but this one is similar, the sold one had a background of yellow netting if I recall. The sale came from the Rotary Club exhibition in St Peters church in the centre of Sudbury, and the commission will go towards charities supported by the Rotarians. I made 19 of these, each slightly different so lets hope for more sales another before the summer is out!

On the illustrating front I am just waiting to see the finished product for the Cardiff Illustrations I produced; it has to be approved by the Welsh Tourist Board first! Meantime I am gearing up for the next one; Milan is heading my way shortly... perhaps a little more glamorous than Cardiff, but since I have never visited either I couldn't say for sure, hmm.

I guess the Cardiff Opera is quite glam, here was my take on it:

It will be interesting to see what comes my way for Milan, I am betting I will have to do a footie fan, I they seem to be a requirement, and Milan seems to be football mad...

People in glass houses should probably wear contact lenses...

2011-06-01T13:18:00.000+01:00

Now friends and relatives will not know me as a risk taker, but it has been bought to my attention recently that I am being irresponsible and endangering my health. This revelation came about on a trip to a local optician. Needing a spare pair of specs, and not liking any of the frames in my regular place I defected to the premises down the road. I chose a pair of frames and went to select the lenses, and that's when the trouble started. "Right," I said "I don't want plastic, I want glass."

Now plastic is more usual these days as it is cheaper, lightweight and easier to glaze, particularly with the high density lenses I am forced to have in order not to look like I am peering through pint glass bottoms. But the problem is, that on the one occasion I had plastic lenses they gave me all sorts of trouble. Unlike glass you cannot bung them under the tap and clean them with a bit of kitchen paper (this scratches them to bits), you need a special cloth, which has to be carried everywhere, and hairspray and perfume stick to plastic and can't be polished out. So back to glass I went.

"We don't recommend glass" said the assistant, attempting to scare me with stories involving (mainly) me crashing my car and all the glass going in my eyes. "I don't know why people want glass lenses, its soo dangerous" said the receptionist to a colleague behind the screen next to me, knowing I could hear her. Next time she walked past I glared at her, thinking uncharitable thoughts like 'I bet she smokes 40 a day.'

In the end I explained that as a non-smoking tee-total vegetarian who did no contact sports and hated roller coasters I doubted wearing glasses made of glass (as I have since age 12) was overly dangerous. They tutted and I left the shop.

Back home I planned to start a large still life with a starfish and glass jars, but sadly found all my big boards had been used and I didn't have any more paper stretched. So grabbing the only (small) board I had available, I started a painting of some purple Irises that flowered in my garden a few weeks ago. I never do flowers from photos, but as I had an unusually clear picture, I gave it a go, and was quite pleased with the results.

May ended with one little sale, a mosaic I completed a few months ago, and put into a gallery in Bury. When I dropped it off the owner said "That will sell" so obviously knows her customers well!

Finally this week the teen has started 'Study Leave'. This basically means they kick them out until 6th form in September, they just go in for GCSE's. Its a mad policy, as the teen will work diligently at school, but once home can barely be bothered to leave the bed and feed herself toast. Just to exercise her I dragged her into town for a walk. We went back to my original opticians who had some new styles in, chose a couple and arranged for glass lenses to be fitted. In the opticians the lady apologised as there was no chair for the teen. "Are you joking?" I said, "she has been horizontal for 3 days, I am just getting her used to standing up..."

Exhibition Season

2011-05-26T17:02:00.000+01:00

Well, exhibition season has started in earnest, and I have been preparing work to go out into the world, and hopefully return magically changed into cheques... fingers crossed. First is a local 'Flowers and Gardens' exhibition at the new Gallery 47, swiftly followed by the Rotary club exhibition in the big church, St Peters. Several recent pieces have gone out, including, just finished today, a new mosaic:

In my new Folksy print shop, I continued to add products, and in order to get some initial sales, and some valuable feedback to encourage more, I made some little ACEO's. These are artists trading cards, always 3.5 by 2.5 inches, hand-made and collected by artists and enthusiasts worldwide. Luckily as well as being fun, this resulted in my first Folksy sale:

This one was made by monoprinting, using real dried hydrangea petals to resist the ink, then layering with collage, and mounting on Watercolour paper.

At home we have had a trying couple of weeks. This started with boyfriend accidently de-frosting the entire freezer contents whilst on a late night ice cream mission. What could I say? I have done it myself in the past. Luckily the kitchen and oven are so appalling that all attemps at home cooking have been suspended, and we mainly lost cornetto's and pizza.

Then there was the phone call, received when I was in the middle of teaching a private student. An irrate local dress shop owner, telling tales of my daughter reserving an expensive prom dress, which I needed to pay for. I explained to her that a) I knew nothing about it, and b) taking reservations without deposits from 15 year olds is perhaps not smart business sense. Then I yelled at the teen. A lot.

To be honest, the teen was probably just getting revenge. Boyfriend did steal her shoes whilst we were at the zoo:

And I really shouldn't have told her that Lithuania was near Ipswich. That was very wrong of me.

Tomorrow, after a period of very hard work I am going to take a day off. But I will probably still end up in the studio, the big table is perfect for dressmaking!

Multi-Tasking

2011-05-10T10:56:00.000+01:00

Usually my studio is pretty tidy, but last week it looked like this! Massive illustration project nearing completion, deadline looming, panic setting in. Plus I had bought my new monoprints home from the print workshop a little early, meaning that they needed to be spread out to dry.

So every area that wasn't covered in illustration work, paperwork and half drunk cups of tea had prints drying, but they did look quite nice!

The illustrations were 49 small pen and watercolour pictures of Cardiff: people, places, vehicles and even a fish for the river. I am being subcontracted on this one, so I will share the product with you when work is completed by all parties concerned, and I have a copy of the finished item... but it is all quite exciting. I have never been to Cardiff, but now could confidently choose it as my specialist subject on Mastermind.

The illustrations look like this:

The finished Monoprints are much bigger, and look like this:

This meant that I was finally able to set up my latest project... a shop on Folksy. If you haven't heard of Folksy it is the British version of (American) Etsy. If you haven't heard of either, basically they are a way for crafters, designers and artists to sell direct to the public. Want a one off, hand-made bag, some vegan soap, or hand-crafted gold ring? Find it on Folksy! The main worry is that I will spend more than I earn, as the site is full of such beautiful stuff, and sellers tend to also buy from each other. So now you can...

Finally, that crazy cat has done it again; bird bothering that is. I came back from teaching my Saturday art class to find boyfriend with the hoover out. Yes Gimlet has not only learned to use the cat flap, he has learned to drag living things through it. (Actually this one got away, but left a big mess behind, we can only hope it lived.)

A 'Liberator' collar has been ordered from ebay, it beeps as the cat pounces, so fingers crossed, his murderous ways are soon to be a little under control, although apparently it only works for birds, not rodents... we shall see.

Quick link

2011-05-02T08:51:00.000+01:00

Just a quick link today: I was kindly interviewed by fellow Zazzle store owner and artist Christina Mekvold for her new blog, which features some of her favourite Zazzle stores. If you don't know Zazzle it is a US print on demand store similar to Cafepress or Redbubble; artists upload images for sale on a variety of quality products and stationery. It's certainly not a get rich quick scheme, but has added a few pounds (or dollars I should say!) to my income...

Christina's blog featuring my interview

Return to printmaking...

2011-04-28T08:45:00.000+01:00

Having found there are less hours in the day than is necessary to keep up with the artwork I need to produce, with several impending exhibitions I have no work for; I have decided that prints are the answer.

The word print means two things of course, the first being hand-made, and the second being a reproduction of an artwork. I intend to produce both, and am making enquiries about producing limited editions of my watercolours. Meantime it is back to hand-made prints, which I have a little experience of. I have always considered myself a novice printmaker, and that it is just something I dabble in, yet have sold a few in the past, my speciality is a kind of Lino/Monoprint combination

So feeling somewhat nervous, with little recollection of what to do I went back to the print workshop at Gainsborough's House. Above you can see a couple of the very old presses. If you look towards the left hand bottom you can see the handle I whacked my knee into resulting in some rather spectacular bruising.

After this painful start, and with help finding stuff from some of the other artists in the workshop that day, I was soon happily playing with ink. Printmaking comes a close second to mosaics in it's ability to ruin a manicure and leave you with stained hands. Having already got blue grout up my finger nails whilst helping my youngest private student (age 7) at the weekend, the addition of lithographic ink ensured the usual strange looks from WHSmith staff when I picked up my sewing magazine later in the day.

Soon I was happily filling the drying racks. What was I printing? A black and white wagtail bird, with a butterfly, and some daisies for making cards. Pictures will follow when I have finished, as I am only on the second layer, and these prints will have four different turns on the press before they are done.

Meantime I have had a big illustration project land on my work table, different company, I will show you when it is finished, but suffice it to say that this one has a distinctly Welsh feel! Illustrations come with deadlines, so prints and other artwork are on the back burner, it's all juggling as usual.

Good news to end with: Summer came early for a few days in Suffolk, which made me very happy, but perhaps not as happy as Gimlet who for some reason has taken to dust baths, like some kind of large bird, followed by basking happily in the garden...

Vote for Ethel!

2011-04-13T09:34:00.000+01:00

The painting above is 'Newquay, Cornwall' by Ethel Blosse. I met Ethel in 2005 when I tutored an art project for a few months at William Wood House in Sudbury, working with some of the elderly residents for the 'Visions of Sudbury' project. The idea was to get them enjoying reminiscing about local places they had known when younger and the changes they had seen; and of course to create art! When the project was finished I continued to visit Ethel as a friend and sometimes for art tuition, she always has cake and a cup of tea waiting for me - there goes the diet again! Ethel's production of art is amazing and prolific. I often photograph her paintings and she turns them into cards for friends and family. The Newquay view was an old holiday photo of mine, taken on a sunny day, but somehow transformed into an atmospheric night scene by Ethel!

Both last year and this I helped Ethel to enter the EAC art awards for the over '60's, and this year she was accepted. Not only is Ethel over 60, she is 94 and shortly to turn 95. Ethel is frail, hard of hearing and has ongoing eyesight problems. This is an amazing acheivement. Her painting will be exhibited in Birmingham, and she is excited and delighted. As part of the awards there is a 'people's choice award.

Please consider voting for Ethel via the link below. You do have to register (as usual to prevent spammers) but it takes seconds. Then you will be sent an email link, press the link and you will find yourself back on the site with three rosettes to award to your favorite artworks, you can also comment on the pictures. All the people in this competition have no doubt overcome various challenges to enter. Please show your support. It costs nothing to put a smile on someones face :-)

Vote for Ethel here!

Taking some water with it...

2011-04-02T16:59:00.000+01:00

Yes, small things please small minds and I am ridiculously happy to at last have water in the studio. "I am going to make lots of mess..." said boyfriend fixing me with a look as he started the plumbing in the middle of my hoovering/clearing up time on Sunday. "I don't care," I lied, "just do it please". He made lots of mess, I went out for a bit. I tried not to moan when it became apparent that having all the house doors open (it was cold) and the kitchen dismantled was necessary. But it was worth it, I have water, and the studio is officially FINISHED. Yay!

Now is the time that all the exhibitions get started, and in a mad rush I have been filling in forms and entering work I have not yet produced. Nothing new there then, and I must start producing work super fast, as all of my existing stuff is out on display. First up was a small flower painting I started on a course last year, finished with the addition of a few white flowers we were using for class last week.

Talking of work on display, I have added a new venue...

Thanks to my student S putting a good word in, my work is now in the reception area of the lovely new physiotherapy clinic in Sudbury. Initially the handyman put the hanging rail about an inch from the top of the wall, obviously not quite understanding how they work, but alterations were made and all is now well.

Last month was super for sales, and in addition to the gate painting I also sold this snow scene to a friend:

It had been on display in his offices, and he had grown attached to it!

And literally days after I finished it I sold the heart mosaic:

I had taken it in to show my students and one of them said the blue matched his new bathroom perfectly and his wife would love it...

On the subject of art class, I must share the latest trend amongst my highly fashion conscious students...

Yes, it's the broken left arm. R did his snowboarding (no comment), and J took a tumble at her home, easily done.

On the home front Gimlet has taken my pleas to stop hurting birds to heart, his latest exploit is a rabbit, not just dismantled on the lawn, but eaten with gusto, causing him to spend many hours afterwards sleeping belly up and stuffed. The gap down the side of the garage has been re-named the cave of death, bits of fur and feathers litter the base. When we chose our cute little cat we had no idea we were actually giving house room to a feline Hannibal Lector.

The teen meantime is nearing the end of brace wearing, meaning many more trips to Haverhill 45 mins drive away for adjustments at the orthodontist. The conversation in the car started with an overview of world religions (she is doing philosophy and ethics for A level next year), moved on to a discussion of faith versus science (also taking physics), and ended with her wanting explanations from me of the politics/ religous history of Ireland and the IRA, the conversion of Britain from a Catholic to Protestant nation and the situation concerning the Israeli occupied Palestine territories.

By the end of it I was utterly drained! All I cared about at that age was Duran Duran's latest video and whether I could get away with blue nail varnish for a whole day at school.

Finally this week I notice in an interview that Tracy Emin says her subject starts with herself. It appears mine does too. I scratched my neck during painting and felt a strange dry flaky area... Toothpaste perhaps? Hair gel? Nope, further investigation revealed Cerulean Blue.

Meltdown at Art Class

2011-03-18T11:17:00.000Z

It has happened before, and it will happen again... my students lost it. The culprits this time J (on the right), who was so disgusted with her attempts at squirrel portraiture that tears and laughter burst out at the same time causing a phenomenon I like to call 'Art Class Meltdown'. It is of course contagious as can be seen by her friend D. Another student L had a camera, and I have permission from the lovely ladies to post the photo. If your art goes wrong the best thing you can do is laugh... and cry... and laugh some more.

In the past I have myself attended many art classes, some of which are sophisticated affairs with little talk, serious application and classical music. This, as can be seen (and heard) if you are walking past is not the sort of class I run.

Last week I took a day off, and checking my emails found I had sold 3 postcards from my shop, all with seashell art on, to someone in Minsk. Amazing! On the same day I sold this:

'Five Bar Gate, Marks hall'. Informing boyfriend happily of my 'day off' sales he said "perhaps you should take more time off!" The painting sold from some holiday homes in Nayland near Colchester, where the owners are kind enough to display my work.

Not currently having any illustration commissions, it is back to fine art, and a trip to Felixstowe on a cold and windy sunday gave me a little inspiration. The photos of the derelict boats being particularly interesting. In the end I settled on this one:

I started it with pure watercolour painting in mind, but decided it would be perfect for line and wash. Starting with a sepia dip pen drawing...

and then adding the paint in loose washes, using gum arabic to add shine and softness to the water reflections:

At the same time I was working on a couple of mosaics. The first one was supposed to be a red and white light house, until I realised that all my red crockery had been used up by students on the mosaic day I taught last year. So I turned it into a simple flower, with a mirror centre:

(The bar visible in the mirror is my camera tripod!) Luckily my friend S has since dropped a big red casserole dish, so the lighthouse may yet be made! I also made a vintage style heart from floral crockery and lovely warm blues:

So the production of artwork is going well. On a less happy note I can reveal I am harbouring a serial killer:

After the success of his mouse exploits he has moved up to massive pigeons. Despite it being so large he could barely carry it, he attempted to bring it into the kitchen. His delight at his kill was boundless and two days later whilst I was teaching a new private student in the studio, I glanced out of the window to see him happily torturing a poor blackbird. "Please excuse me" I said politely, dashing in the house and instructing boyfriend to get it off him. Another broken neck. As a member of the RSPB and having a genuine fondness for birds, I am mortified by this behaviour. I think a louder bell on his collar may be necessary.

I wish I could say he is wracked by grief and repentance, but I am afraid I would be lying like a rug. Gimlet sleeps soundly, untroubled by his conscience...

Musicals

2011-03-01T15:40:00.000Z

Above: Happisburgh Beach

Well, you will be relieved to know I had my identity confirmed by the government. I was worried for a bit I might have turned into someone else. Unless maybe it was Lady Gaga, because then I would get to wear mad clothes which would be fun. Except for the meat dress, having been vegetarian for over 20 years I would have to wear something in cabbage leaves.

Last week being half term the teen was away with relatives. I finally finished the world’s slowest painting of Happisburgh (pronounced haze-borough don't ask me why, its Norfolk, they don't do logic) and the tower of London and other models went to the printer. It was a tough one, Elizabeth 1^st was particularly tricky as her skirts were so wide, and simply didn’t fit into the model template. In the end she looked like this:

However, just when I thought that one was hard, along came Westminster abbey:

I have to say painting it is difficult, but the model maker is a minor genius in my opinion. Presently I am working on illustrating the figures, which include members of the royal wedding party in outfits which are total guesswork, a rolls Royce and a horse. Cars and horses; my least favourite subjects; I will not be beaten however, after Boris Johnson on a bicycle, I think I can cope with anything.

I thought last week would be quiet, with the teen away but I was mistaken. Boyfriend decided to go through all his old tapes in order to put the best tracks on the computer and throw the cassettes away. I did the same a few years ago, but skipped the first couple of steps and proceeded straight to binning the tapes (life’s too short, iTunes are cheap.)

The teen plays constant music, which drives me nuts, but more because of the volume than anything else. Her taste is not too bad, and varies from old stuff through to German Industrial Metal (yes, that is an actual genre, apparently). Her liking for vintage stuff is of course a comedy of errors. “I love the ‘80’s” she told me dreamily one day whilst listening to Buddy Holly.

Boyfriend on the other hand has no need for lyrics in his music, or indeed for much that could be described as a tune. Some kind of maddening repetitive beat with added synthesizers that goes on for about 8 minutes is his thing. I could try telling him that the ‘90’s called and they want their illegal rave music back, but I am not sure it would have much effect.

Gimlet has on the other hand had a fairly peaceful week. Apart from catching his first mouse (SO proud of it! Yuk), he has been mainly doing what he does best:

I mean what are humans doing as a species, working so hard? Why didn't we evolve to nap all day while a (supposedly) more intelligent animal gets us everything we need?

Identity crisis

2011-02-09T13:50:00.000Z

Had to share this hysterical conversation I just had with the tax credits office. After some preamble here’s what happened:

Civil servant tax office bloke: “You will have to have an appointment with someone at your local office; I can’t help you over the phone”

Me: “Why? Can’t you just send me a form?”

Civil servant tax office bloke: “No I am not allowed to send you a form, I cannot verify your identity, I would need to ask you lots of security questions”

Me: “I don’t mind, go ahead!”

Civil servant tax office bloke: “I can’t, I don’t have enough information about you”

Me: “Just look at my old records, you must have tons of information about me”

Civil servant tax office bloke: “I am not allowed to access your previous information”

Me: “Because?”

Civil servant tax office bloke: “The computer won’t let me access that information until I verify your identity, and I cannot verify your identity”

(This I would add was after I had given him my National insurance number, date of birth, current and previous addresses and partner’s name.)

These are the people who run our government departments… be afraid, be very afraid.

Fairies, Cats & Other Characters

2011-02-05T16:52:00.000Z

Well, the last batch of illustrations are finished (fairies above) and apparently on their way with the model company to the Spring Fair in Birmingham's NEC. It's a new company so they are no doubt hoping for lots more clients/contacts and work. I have heard good things about trade fairs, they can be expensive to exhibit at, but generally if you have a good product I think the rewards are there.

I finally got round to photographing the first two models and figures I illustrated, here is Big Ben, along with Boris Johnson on a bicycle that so amused the teen:

And here is Norwich Castle, with suitably medieval characters:

They look big, but in real life are only a few inches high, the little people being about 5cm max!

The Tower of London, Fairies and everything else were collected on Monday, and on Tuesday I did the second of two workshops for clients of the Mind Charity in Colchester. The workshops were arranged by Slackspace which uses empty shops, unwanted in the recession, for art projects. Its a fabulous idea, but sadly their budget seems not to stretch to heating. Despite my layers of clothes (I learnt the first time that these were sub-zero painting workshops) I still froze.

The people who came were not mentally disabled (as I have worked with before), these were people suffering from various mental illnesses, such as depression and anxiety. They were great to work with and seemed to enjoy making the art, but I couldn't help notice how much they talked about their pasts. Despite being in some cases middle aged, their (often very harrowing) childhoods were still very much with them. I have read that the happiest people are those who live in the present, and I think it is true. Whatever has happened in the past, some people seem able to draw a line under it, whilst others let it invade their daily lives. Very sad.

Whilst I was freezing in Colchester boyfriend applied himself to building a proper drain for the studio, rather than the 'big bucket' method it currently employs. Gimlet helped with the concreting (he was obviously the artistic director.)

When not walking in wet concrete he applied himself vigorously to napping. We are amazed by how stretchy he is. Yes one cat really can take up a (large) two seater sofa. The picture is dark due to the black sofa, but I dare say you can make him out:

I also managed to take my day off on Wednesday, but made the classic mistake of forgetting that boyfriend was working nightshift this week. All I will say is it's no fun creeping about the house when someone is sleeping, and I was unable to use my sewing machine due to the noise. In the end I wandered round the shops for a bit, and finally ended up back in the studio after all. I didn't work though, just spent the day altering some dress patterns and internet shopping with the radio on. But at least it wasn't work, and I could make as much noise as I wanted.

The layout for the Westminster Abbey model has arrived, currently it appears to be a selection of random and complex geometric shapes, but hopefully during the course of next week, as I scale up the pieces I will start to get an idea of what goes where. Fairies are a walk in the park in comparison...

Have Studio, Will Paint

2011-01-31T15:16:00.000Z

Finally, the studio is finished, and I am getting used to a whole new way of working.

Years ago in an art magazine I read an article about a successful artist, who had produced all his artwork in a tiny backroom, perched in front of a coffee table. With success came more money, and he built a big studio, only to find that inspiration did not strike, and the space failed to live up to his expectations. This is always a worry, that when we get the thing we want, it doesn't turn out to be what we hoped.

Well I can say with confidence, having a studio is GREAT. It is warm, peaceful, and I get at least twice as much work done. Even the cat has his own place, (Every artist needs a muse):

Unfortunately he cannot be persuaded to stay on his blanket, or indeed to wipe the mud off his feet:

Luckily he has so far not managed to get on the big table where I produce artwork. He also likes to sit with the (tasteful) Gnomes that boyfriend kindly placed on the decking out front, which makes for an amusing site:

Having finally gained workspace I first finished four mosaics I started recently:

A flower with black grout (lucky you can't see how my manicure looked after this one)...

A romantic affair made from some of the smashed victorian crockery an artist friend gave me...

A fish on a wooden base...

and an abstract spiral made from a selection of bits and pieces...

And just to get back into painting, I finally finished this watercolour of Layer Marney Tower, only 6 months after I started it!

In between this I was catching up on paperwork and emails. Then at the start of last week I received a sample of the products I have been illustrating. This one is Norwich castle, I will post some photos of it built (it kept the teen amused for part of Sunday) next time.

Since then I have illustrated the Tower of London, 2 Ravens, Henry the 8th, Elizabeth the 1st, Colonel Blood (chap who nearly got away with nicking the crown jewels) and a Beefeater. For the same print run, but a different project I also illustrated a fairy house, 3 fairies, a treasure chest and 2 pirates.

I have also provisionally booked a gallery for myself and my super saturday students to have our first exhibition in October. They appear to be excited and terrified in equal measure. It's a lot of work, but should be fun.

A painting of a local sea view was started last week, but I am not sure when it will be finished, it's the end of the month and the accounts need doing. And apparently Westminster Abbey needs illustrating (Royal Wedding anyone?) Tomorrow I spend part of the day in Colchester, teaching a workshop for clients of the Mind charity.

At some stage, I am determined to take a day off this week!

Gimlet’s First Christmas

2011-01-12T14:31:00.000Z

Technically speaking, not his first Christmas, but since his past is shrouded in mystery, I count the one just gone as number 1. On the human side we decided against decorations this year. The studio being so close to finished, and the house being largely ignored, I simply couldn’t add to the mess and long overdue DIY jobs by putting up tinsel and a tree. As for what Gimlet would do to a tree, it has to be left to the imagination, but since he still seems to be half kitten, and is prone to manic and somewhat violent play attacks, I don’t think a spruce would last long.

Even Santa was charmed and left him a present:

What is it?

Toy! Chase it round and round! Kill it! Rip it to shreds! Yay!

The teen had a nice time too, although she was supposed to be with her Grandparents for a few days, but the snow put paid to their journey up, so she spent much of the holidays lazing about. Unlike boyfriend and I, who at that age only came home to eat and pick up our bikes, the teen refuses to do anything. Despite having lots of friends, it is just too much effort to contact them or arrange to meet up. In despair at her constant whinging and boredom I sent her to the library. She came back with a selection of new age pseudo self-help psychic rubbish. Titles included ‘Harnessing the 8^th Chakra’, ‘You know more than you think’ (I doubt that) and contained topics on how to find your ‘Super -subconscious’ and communicating with spirits. It gave the adults in the household endless fun as we mercilessly poked fun at this selection of badly written rubbish.

On the plus side she seems to have become less interested in the whole Wicca/Witchcraft thing. As she explained sadly the other day, Witches are supposed to go on pilgrimages. Obviously this involves a) effort and b) finding your door key, and c) going somewhere. Religion: so exhausting… Now she is back at school with her friends she is far happier, although she would never ever admit it.

As Christmas was a simple affair we used the holidays to finish the studio and boyfriend took some time to mend/rebuild/fix a few computers.

Pop Quiz: how many computers can you fit in one small spare room?

Answer: impossible to say, they breed while I am sleeping…

Gimlet meanwhile has become a studio cat, acquainting himself with all areas:

Exploring the cupboards:

Hanging system? No, it’s another cat toy, yay!

The big table, perfect for hiding under when you don’t want to be picked up:

Favourite of all is a manic game of football, played on the shiny laminate floor with foil ball, whilst crashing into furniture.

Lastly on New Year’s day I entertained a few students and other artists in my new studio with a coffee and cake type open day. I managed to produce 3 cakes (no photos, too busy eating) which was a minor miracle considering I am using the old gas cooker left by the previous elderly occupant. To say it’s basic is an understatement. It burns anything placed in the rear third of the oven, and has no internal light. A large garden torch is kept next to the cooker so I can see if dinner is cooked. Unfortunately people tend to wander off with this leaving me yelling “Who’s got the oven light?”

Next post I will put up some studio photos and the mosaics I have at last finished… A belated happy new year to everyone!

Modern technology and other horrors

2010-12-08T09:21:00.000Z

Well, the mosaic course went well. It was a long day, but good messy fun and time to catch up with a couple of students I hadn’t seen for a while. Everyone agreed it was a tricky technique, but the good thing about mosaic is that even if your design is less than perfect, the pieces are just so darn pretty it still looks nice! Here are some of the creations we had by the end of the day...

A pretty circle;

This lady bought some lovely ceramic tiles with her;

Another cute fish;

An abstract stars and moons design;

Simplicity always works;

One of my regular students created this delicate beaded design;

Flowers used to make modern designs;

Metallic paint used to good effect;

Yes, that's a handbag mirror in this pretty mosaic;

One of my favourites, a simple sail boat with mirror sails;

Look carefully and you will find a mermaid here;

This one was thrown together quickly at the end of the day, yet works fantastically well;

Another of my favourites, a fabulous funky bird;

Many are unfinished, and students were given a sheet to take home to enable them to complete the work at home. Sometimes grout just needs a bit longer to dry...

After that successful, if tiring day, the week went rapidly downhill, due to that blight of modern life, computers. Boyfriend is a genius with computers; if it can be done he can do it. It’s not his job, just an obsession. So when I purchased this lovely little shuttle computer, I knew he would build it and set it up for me.

Which he did, super! Then he installed Windows 7 and the problems started. Don’t get me wrong, Windows 7 worked just fine, until I tried to get all my old files over.

Years ago I used to keep all my students and contacts details on record cards, and that worked fine. But I was seduced by computers. You can store everything on me they said, less room, less mess, update whenever you like... So now all my contacts are in Outlook Express. Email addresses, phone numbers, and most important of all those little notes that remind me who people are, where I met them, which classes they have attended before.

But Outlook Express cannot be easily transferred to Outlook (the more advanced version of the same program). And Outlook Express cannot be used with Windows 7; indeed it is now obsolete and will only be supported for another 3 years or so. After about two days of trying very clever stuff indeed, boyfriend had to concede that all he could do is get some basic email addresses across. No formatting, no details, just addresses. “This is NOT normal!” Said boyfriend, pointing at my complex filing system and billion or so sub-folders, as I started on my third sulk of the day.

I am not sure at what point I lost it: Not when I found that all my Outlook Express details couldn’t be transferred. Not even when I discovered that my graphics program Paint Shop Pro 8 is unsupported by Windows 7. I think it was when I discovered all of my word files had been converted into ‘Read Only’ files for no apparent reason other than it darn well felt like it. Super, every type of work I do on the PC, now ground to a complete halt.

“Microsoft are ruining my life!” I sobbed. With the unfinished studio, a house stuck in 70’s décor hell, Christmas looming and our lovely new cat happily kicking cat litter everywhere as the vet says he must stay indoors until the next set of injections, I just can’t deal with the computer imploding too.

Boyfriend just sighed... he has seen it all before apparently. He had of course kept a copy of all my old hard drive, for the time being I am back on Windows XP, on my old PC.

Finally we have had snow here, not as bad as Scotland where people got stuck in their cars in sub zero temperatures for over 15 hours...

But enough to freeze the river Stour in places!

Feline Happy...

2010-11-26T14:42:00.000Z

It finally happened, a cat chose us! We went to the animal rescue sanctuary last week, and wandered amongst the mud, kennels, runs and myriad of animals, everything was there, including chickens, rodents, dogs. We were met by the ‘meeter and greeter’ cat Boff, a tailess tabby who did a good job of showing us in. Then a nice lady took us to the first run. Boyfriend tried to make friends with a very scared looking fluffy tabby, but I was determined to stick to my rules: One cat only. Short haired. Friendly. Absolutely no neurotic, grumpy cats coming home with me. Most of the other cats in that run were nervous wrecks or spoken for, so on we went to run two. “I’m afraid all the cats here are in pairs” said the nice lady. “There is that little black cat” said the owner, passing by, “it’s very friendly.”

Out came the little black cat, pausing to stretch its back legs in a totally unconcerned manner before allowing us to make a big fuss of it. Perfect. When a dog wandered past the run it took a quick swipe at it with its paw. I liked it already. But there was bad news: “I am afraid the owners handed it in because it is pregnant” said the lady. “Don’t worry, we can re-home any kittens” she added. Easy to say, much harder to get a sobbing teenager to part with a litter of adorable kittens I thought. Then suddenly some luck. “Wait a second,” said the nice lady, peering at the backside of the cat... “It’s a boy!”

Well, the vet confirmed it; a boy, and already neutered. What luck! The animal centre had called him Snake for reasons unknown, green eyes perhaps, but Boyfriend and the Teen have re-named him Gimlet. His somewhat bloated stomach has since been diagnosed as a very bad case of worms, and he has had a tablet to get rid of them.

Gimlet has proved to be adorable, even tempered, affectionate and if not exactly a lap cat, then certainly a sit next to people whilst stretching out to take up half the sofa cat. The first evening he was with us it was like he had gone to cat heaven, after living in an outdoor run with minimal contact he found himself in warm house, with new toys and 3 humans making constant fuss of him. Even concerted efforts by boyfriend to tickle his feet and endlessly wind him up have failed to turn him into a psychopath.

All week I have been trying to take photos of him with limited success. He is so black, the sofa is black and he automatically shuts his eyes when the flash goes off which looks like this:

In the midst of all this cat fuss, final touches on the studio are happening, although very slowly due to bad weather, and boyfriend working long hours. But the new workbench is finished!

It is already proving invaluable, firstly to finish the pastel dogs portrait I have been commissioned to paint by one of my students,

and today it is covered with equipment I am preparing for teaching a one day mosaic course tomorrow, (weekend, what weekend?)

And finally on the art front, I have just received the first copies of my illustration work from the paper models company. Big Ben! It’s so tiny and cute, I will give one to the teen to assemble, she likes that sort of thing...

Just a quick link

2010-11-15T13:33:00.000Z

Meant to post this link last time, but forgot so here it is:

A post by Welsh artist and Blogger Judy Adamson. Judy kindly asked myself and 6 other artists why we use 'real' art materials, rather than work digitally, as is the trend nowadays. The answers are surprisingly similar, and the post provoked strong debate...

Seven artist's reasons not to go digital

The end is nigh!

2010-11-13T15:17:00.000Z

No, not the end of the world, the end of my studio build. I have actually been working in the studio this week, although mainly on computer/paperwork. The heater has not been quite sufficient for the size of the building: I have been putting it on timed for 6am and starting work at 8am, but the studio is not warm enough until about lunchtime.

We have therefore ordered an extra plug-in heater, which I hope will supplement the warmth during the colder months. The studio is well insulated and dry, plus it warms up quickly when the sun comes out, so in the warmer months it should be cosy.

There is a myriad of minor finishing jobs to do, including painting, cushions etc, but the main jobs remaining are to get the sink connected with real water, and build the large work table that I will do artwork at. The table is designed to have paintings, browsers, large rulers etc stored underneath. Due to it's height I will work on a draftsmans high stool. After a few frustrating days when we were unable to start due to the appalling weather (the table saws need to be used in the garden), work finally got underway.

The frame is huge, and we have already considered that it could just be used to make a cage for teenagers, during any bouts of whinging/bad behaviour/being stupidly noisy, but tempting as that option is, I do need somewhere to paint.

So work continues, and should be complete in the next two or three weeks. Meantime at least I have the paperwork organised, which is good as I am starting to work out next years classes. It may be November but I am already planning spring and summer next year.

As for artwork, I am out of my comfort zone again, having been commissioned to draw a pair of cute little Jack Russells by one of my students in charcoal. Considering it's about 30 years since I last drew a dog its not going too badly, but time only time will tell...

No more moaning...

2010-11-05T13:10:00.001Z

Just a quick post today; as promised the photos from last weeks Saturday Class. I don't usually get my camera out on a Saturday, but everyone did so well I couldn't resist a few quick snaps. The subject was Night Pictures in Pastel, to be completed on dark coloured paper. I have to say, whenever we do pastels there is more than the odd moan: "I don't like pastels..." "I am no good at pastels..." "But they are so messy..."

Well class, in future I am not listening to the moaning, as the evidence shows that you are fabulous at pastels!

Check out these great pieces of art:

A charming atmospheric piece;

There's nothing like a sunset in the snow;

The long arm of the law shows a surprisingly sensitive touch;

Wow, perfectly spooky for Halloween;

One of the most experienced artists in the class shows Van Gogh leanings;

Plumber by day, accomplished marine artist by weekend;

Another successful snow scene for this student;

The matriarch of the group shows the youngsters how it is done;

A seascape of Malta's Valletta harbour at night, beautifully executed;

And finally, a stunning local sunset;

Well done class, see you tomorrow!

Arrived Safely!

2010-10-30T18:56:00.000+01:00

Well I did it. I moved in with my poor unsuspecting boyfriend... The week of the move was exhausting, the week after the move was exhausting, and much time was spent trying to find a home for stuff. For a standard British 3 bedroom home this one is surprisingly roomy, although its probably about the size the average American uses to keep half a dozen chickens in. Still by local standards it's spacious, what it does not have however is storage. Cupboards, none, kitchen, nothing to speak of, DIY jobs outstanding, several billion: at least we won't be bored.

Wow, is that an art studio I see at the bottom of my garden? How convenient...

Still, we have got it into some kind of temporary order and the living together thing is going fine, I feel very at home here, probably helped by the fact that the house was not new to me, boyfriend having moved in a few months before me. The trick to living together I have decided is just to be gracious sometimes. For example, when my boyfriend explained to me this week that he had reversed his car into mine on our very narrow drive, and that it was my fault for 'parking too far forwards', I immediately apologised. It was, I admitted,very careless of me to strike the back of his car with mine, particularly as I was sat on the sofa indoors at the time. I was watching that show on the Sky nature channel: When Stationary Cars Attack. Anyhow no damage was done to the car, and I happily stored the experience away for future use when I reverse into his car, men being so understanding about matters involving their vehicles.

The teen was grumpy and overly dramatic about in the time leading up to the move, but she was away when the big move took place, so we ensured her room was straight and as soon as she saw all her old furniture and books she was perfectly happy, and immediately set about her favorite occupation; doing nothing.

A few days after I moved in the paper models company who used me for some illustrations last month gave me another commission, so it was back to working on the dining room table again, frustratingly the whole time I was working I could see my new (not ready) studio at the end of the garden! The commission this time was Norwich Castle, which I thought would be a doddle, it just being a big square. I couldn't have been more wrong, it is neither square, nor symmetrical; not a window or an arrow slit is in the same place on any of the sides, plus several parts of it I couldn't even find a photo for, not even on trusty Google maps. Time for some artistic license...

Here is a picture of a front detail, this is just one tiny part, the areas where the paint has bled out are for tabs which will secure the model together:

No castle is complete without a few characters, here is my peasant:

I also produced a jester, knight and maiden. You won't believe the stuff that comes up on Google Image search when you type in Medieval Maiden. But in the end I managed to make mine look chaste, not slutty...

Once the commission was done it was back to painting the studio with emulsion, while boyfriend attended to yet more cupboards and fittings. Its not done yet but so far we have:

Blinds at the windows:

A sink, as yet unconnected to water:

Worktop and shelves:

And a corner bench seat with lift up lid for storage:

Currently we are fitting the alarm system, then computer and finally a large work-table with built in storage underneath for drawing boards and paintings. Then it's just a small matter of catching up with 6 months work.

This week I also took part in the 'Big Draw' which aims to get people all over Britain picking up a pencil. I was based at Colchester Castle, and despite a horrid rainy day, half-term ensured a never ending stream of children and a few adults to have a go with dip pen and ink. The ink was permanent so I put it into tiny glass eyeshadow containers, which work fantastically as small, safe ink wells.

This was my work area, it took some time for my my eyes to adjust to the dark 'museum lighting', the photo makes it look a lot brighter than it was:

I was on the upper floor with a great view over the roofspace:

I would love to show you a photo of all the kids working, but as I have lamented on this blog before, one cannot innocently snap photos of kids nowadays, 'tis not the done thing. However, one nice lady let me take a photo of her daughter's drawing; I cannot remember the young girls name but hi, and thanks so much for participating on Tuesday!

At the end of a busy week I was faced with preparing for my Saturday class, 'Night pictures in Pastel' was the subject I happily set a few months ago... of course Thursday evening saw me in the usual last minute panic, desperately trying to take photos in the dark, leaning on the roof of my car for stability, with a grumpy teen who I had just collected from the bus station. The teen wanted dinner, not a tour around town with her crazy mother apparently...

However I got some good photos and this was my favourite: (No that's not a lake in front of the church, it's the reflection of the roof of my car!)

It was a good subject for Halloween as it turned out and the class did amazingly well, I will be posting photos of their efforts in a few days. Now its back to the studio, it really does feel like we are on the home run, I cannot wait until it is finished.

Just before I go...

2010-09-28T10:44:00.000+01:00

Where am I going? About a mile up the road. Yes this is my last post before the big move... My computer goes offline on the 1st of October, and my internet access will be somewhat limited after that date for a week or two. For those who know me personally, my phone number will remain unchanged... for anyone who emails me: all my mail is routed through Google mail, so I will get your email, there may just be a little delay in me picking it up and replying.

The studio is not finished, the house I am leaving is a big mess, the house I am going to is a big mess, but we are all consoling ourselves with the fact that it should all be improvements from now on. Its also the start of a new life, and an end to living alone with my daughter, and a beginning of a new era where I no longer have sole control of the TV remote (welcome to documentaries on Engineering Big Things with Steel.) The teen is coping with the move by being more disorganised and hormonal than ever, but hopefully she will settle down when she realises her room has the best view in the house! I am looking forward to having a studio, it looks wonderful, even in its unfinished state, also to having a dedicated sewing area to feed my other obsession. Most of all I am looking forward to moving in with my wonderful boyfriend, the only man who ever really believed in me, both as a person and an artist, and who never tells me what to do (he just looks exasperated a lot.)

In order to consolidate this new family based lifestyle, we will soon be welcoming a new family member... yes its time to adopt a CAT! I have lived with cats my whole life until four years ago when my dear Brian (female, don't ask), a lovely gentle black and white puddy cat passed away. Boyfriend simply adores cats so as soon as we get a spare moment we are off to the rescue centre to let a cat choose us.

Apologies for the lack of photos, I have no time to upload any. See you after the move!

An illustrated life...

2010-09-16T15:04:00.000+01:00

Being outrageously short of blogging time in recent weeks, I have at least been taking lots of photos. So here it is... the last 3 weeks in images (and a little text!)

The one day watercolour skies course at Gainsborough’s House goes well; we start looking at simple plain skies, move on to clouds.

After lunch we attempt to find that ever-elusive beast, the perfect watercolour sunset. First I demonstrate a couple:

Then the class have a go:

A new student and ex-gallery owner from Cambridge had a moment of epiphany; “I simply haven’t been using enough paint!” Proof that there is nothing like a demo to really make sure the techniques are understood.

The Saturday classes being suspended until the new term in September, I assume the class are enjoying a well deserved break from art... until I start hearing rumours of impromptu meetings, picnics, and even alcohol! Forced to investigate I head off with my camera; it’s true! The art class have escaped and are roaming around Long Melford, I find them near the churchyard, squeals of laughter helping me locate their position.

Thanks for the free lunch guys!

Work on the studio continues. The decking is finished, along with railway sleeper steps...

Lights get fitted, spotlights at the rear where my computer will go, and two hanging lights at the front where I will paint...

A worktop is installed and the cupboards started...

And my favourite thing so far, a small but perfectly formed hanging system on the left hand wall, to display the artwork I might one day find time to start making again.

Back in the house, the littlest bedroom continues its transformation into sewing/computer room with worktops and cupboards.

The corner cupboard separating my sewing area from boyfriends computer area was a genius idea if I say so myself. I am obsessively neat, and he is well, male. This gives me a barrier. It would have been like Israel and Palestine all over again, but with sarcastic post-it notes... Now it’s more like the Berlin wall, prior to all that overrated re-integration business.

The teen returns from her travels, with laundry in tow. Yes, these used to be socks. I thought about washing them, but decided to have them humanely destroyed. Must explain to daughter – SHOES go in between mud and socks.

I had vowed to only keep up with urgent work, and teaching, the big clear-out and box packing taking up all my time. But then, with great serendipity, and appalling timing, an illustration commission lands in my lap! Unlike just about every other professional, amateur or just plain hopeful artist I have ever met I have never wanted to ‘illustrate a children’s book’; realising that the number of children’s books published per year is probably in the hundreds, whereas the enthusiastic would-be illustrators of these books seems to number several billion. I have done a little illustrating in the past, however, and would like to do more.

Illustrating being so hard to get into, and never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I consider the offer, decide I really don’t have time, and say yes anyway. I make a workspace by dumping everything on the floor, and taking over the table. I get the commission late Monday, and the company want it by Friday morning, so no pressure.

The illustration is an exploded view of Big Ben, to be printed on a cut and stick type kid’s 3D cardboard model.

Also I have to paint four London figures including a punk rocker and Churchill! It must have fun touches and not be too stuffy. The company bring me a to-scale model, an example of another illustrator’s work and plans to work to.

The scale is tiny and the measurements have to be scaled up. It takes a couple of hours before the random geometric shapes start to make sense and I actually understand what is required of me. I am suddenly grateful for that year I unenthusiastically studied Technical Drawing at school.

Part of the side panel (the main body of the building below the clock face).

Most amusing of all is the request that I should portray Boris Johnson on a bicycle. The teen finds this hysterical and for days is wandering around saying “Boris Johnson On A Bicycle!” in a loud voice before cracking up laughing.

I get the commission finished and await collection, the deadlines being too tight for postal submission. The company seem pleased, and tell me it may lead to more work. But whatever happens, it was fun and great experience, not to mention more than a little out of my comfort zone, which is not a bad thing at all I think. The second my work is out the door, it is back to the packing cases! The house move deadline is seeming shockingly close.

Studio Update

2010-08-23T20:43:00.000+01:00

The last three weeks or so have passed in a blur. Whilst usually neat and well manicured, I seem to be spending much of my time with varnish splattered on my clothes, emulsion paint in my hair and all over my hands, and clothes covered in a variety of substances including (but not exclusively) wall paint, wood dust, compost (from moving plants around) and a variety of dirt acquired from lugging stuff to the local tip.

My normally clean tidy house now has boxes and piles of stuff everywhere. Despite eBaying things, dumping things, sending stuff to charity shops and recycling like mad, it does not seem to get any clearer. I am also taking every opportunity when going over to the new house to take stuff with me. Plants, garden tools, I just grab stuff. We now have 3 garden rakes between us, and little that could be described as a lawn. The annoying thing is that even though we are both clearing out like mad this is only the first ‘wave’. We have dealt with the big stuff like which sofa, TV etc we are keeping, not too hard, I have mainly the best furniture, boyfriend has mainly the best electrical stuff. But after I move in the second wave will happen when we have to deal with having two irons, cutlery sets, kettles and everything else.

Any attempt at artwork has gone out the window, as has gym attendance, cleaning, and regular meals. Like some feral animal I just wait until hunger strikes and head to the supermarket. The teen has been away with various relatives, and returned last weekend to the craziness that used to be a well-run household. “What are those!?” She said in horror, pointing to the original curtains I have re-hung in her bedroom of our rented house. Her plain bright red replaced with dodgy looking ‘80’s lilac floral. “We all have to make sacrifices” I said, motioning to the heavy sludge green, moth eaten, velour affairs now gracing my own bedroom. “Ha, unlucky” she said with true teenage empathy. After a brief stop home she has now gone away again with the Baptist youth club she belongs to. I gave her a brief reminder not to mention her interest in paganism to the club members, and off she went. I now have a small window of opportunity to get rid of the huge collection of baby toys and general rubbish she has hoarded for years. Empty sweet wrapper collection anyone?

Work on the studio has continued:

More painting has been done on the inside. Wooden drawers have been rescued for re-use as storage containers from an old chest of drawers in the now demolished shed. New box folders have been acquired from IKEA, and are being painted to match the walls.

Guttering has been set up outside.

A second coat of varnish is nearly finished outside. This photo shows the difference between two coats, and the door which has only had one so far. Rain has stopped play again on this activity.

The extremely dangerous-to-ankles sleepers have been partly clad in decking, to be finished when the store gets more wood in.

A trench has been dug, water pipes and electric cables have been laid, and bought into the back of the studio, an electrician is shortly to come and do the remainder of the electrical work, regulations not allowing us to do this ourselves.

Big hole:

And gone again:

We have the power: well nearly...

And as if that were not enough work, boyfriend has been making new cupboards for the smallest bedroom, soon to be shared as his office/den, and my sewing area.

Whilst artwork has been mostly impossible, teaching has continued in the form of one day courses. The first one was successful, it is the most popular I teach, a whole hectic day of watercolour techniques. The second course, aimed at teaching botanical painting in the gardens of Gainsborough’s House was as successful as it could be considering the all day torrential rain left us working indoors. My back up plan was hydrangeas, cut fresh from my garden, and the students made a good job of them. Looking at botanical techniques, with emphasis on mixing greens it was a good day, the class was quieter than usual: you could hear the concentration.

Tomorrow it is the final one day course, watercolour skies, and today I am getting photos ready, and typing up a plan for the day, simple plain skies to be followed by different cloud techniques, and onto more difficult stuff like sunsets after lunch; should be a good day.

After that it is back to the big clear out and pack up. There are at least three exhibitions I should be entering, but all my current work is already out on display and there’s no time to paint more. The lost income and opportunity doesn’t bear thinking about, but the new studio should more than make up for it, long term. And when we looked at the first photos of the new garden on my boyfriend’s phone last night, the old shed and the apple tree where my studio now stands, it was impossible not to think we have achieved a huge amount so far.

Arachnophobia

2010-08-09T20:01:00.000+01:00

Having now given in my notice on the rented house I live in, things have passed the point of no return; which meant dealing with the stuff in the loft. Once when helping my best friend L clear out her loft I was amazed at her fearlessness. She has arachnophobia, and any sighting of a small invertebrate with 8 legs sees her shaking and screaming stuff like “kill it, kill it, die, die” followed by language I can’t repeat. If possible I usually scoop up the offending creature and set it free in the garden. I don’t mean I am entirely comfortable with the larger types, which have to travel via jam jar, but I don’t have a phobia. Asking L why she was so un-phased delving about in a dark loft she replied “spiders don’t live in lofts: no food source”. I should explain that she and her ex used to run a loft conversion business, so she should know.

However the loft in this house is unlike any loft I have ever been in, for several reasons. Firstly it is Victorian, and just looking at the haphazard brickwork and gaps in the roof where you can see the sky makes me worry that the house is about to collapse. Then there is the dirt. All lofts get a little dusty, but put clean stuff into this one, and it comes out covered in a combination of soot, dust, bird droppings, feathers, spiders, dead spiders, parts of dead spiders and the webs (of spiders.) And did I mention the spiders?

Yes, this file was clean when I put it in the loft...

So I decided, I would clear it in one day, and never go back up there again. Armed with disposable gloves, a vacuum cleaner, face mask of the DIY kind, and kitchen tea towel tied around my head in the style of a hijab (even I am not comfortable with spiders in the hair) I set to it. There was a lot up there, and the first thought was where to stack it all. Inspiration struck: of course, the teen is away! Hopefully I will clear it out of her room before she ever finds out... I won’t bore you with the details of all the crap in my loft, but will share the following tip: If you decide to store things in black plastic sacks, don’t use the biodegradable ones. It’s only been two years, but they had dissolved into a lightweight dust that took a week of repeated vacuuming to see off.

My hall, where plastic bags go to die:

In between, clearing out my loft, and wondering why I have six suitcases and paperwork from 1998, work has continued on the studio. Boyfriend has completed the woodwork inside, going the extra mile by making and routing surrounds for the windows. Now he is on the guttering outside, and I have been varnishing the bits of the studio I am keeping as exposed wood. It is now ready for painting on the inside. The outside needs a second coat of varnish in places, but the weather is not being kind.

It is a miracle I have done any painting considering my workspace now looks like this:

But I am intermittently working on two pieces; the never ending painting of the window and gardens of Layer Marney Tower I started weeks ago, and a garden painting I am doing on Thursday mornings at the course I am attending.

Work in progress:

I am feeling unsettled and lethargic, mostly due to the overwhelming amount of stuff to do, and the removal of most of the things that relax me, painting, sewing, gardening, gym, seeing friends. These activities have mostly been replaced with opening boxes, filling boxes, labeling boxes, taking stuff to the tip, trying to sell furniture, and hunting online for the elusive perfect plans chest for the new studio, the one I have being too big, all whilst eating disgusting microwave food that I wouldn't touch under normal circumstances.

I did however manage to get to the health club for a swim on Friday. As I looked for the membership card scanner which lets me in, a young girl behind the reception said “Oh we are using finger prints now” and proceeded to scan my fingerprint. Amazing! Now to enter my gym I press a finger on a pad on a wall. Fantastic, I was instantly a member of the FBI on NCIS, at least in my own head. As they say, small things please small minds. Although on reflection I doubt very much I will be able to sneak in after 5.30 on my ‘off peak’ membership any more...

Step away from the colour chart…

2010-07-23T11:14:00.000+01:00

With inhuman speed, the studio has been built! In less than a week, working long days and well into the evening, my boyfriend and his father have assembled the main part of the building. It looks fabulous; although one disappointment is that the lovely green roof tiles I chose can only be seen from an upstairs window of the house. This is because the garden slopes up towards the end where the studio is, and although the roof has an apex, it is a shallow one (to comply with ‘permitted development’ rules) and so from the garden the studio looks like it has a flat roof.

It’s a shame because boyfriend spent nearly two whole days on the roof sorting it out. From up there he could see across surrounding gardens, with a view of people, chickens, goats and other interesting sights. A neighbour’s cheeky little boy shouted out “Hey, what are you building?” “A Tardis” replied boyfriend. “It’s too big to be a Tardis” countered the boy to which my boyfriend said “It’s an Irish Tardis: it’s smaller on the inside”

(Apologies to my American readers who don’t watch ‘Doctor Who’, there is no short explanation for this joke.)

After the building went up we spent all weekend giving it a coat of wood stain; which blended it a little more into its surroundings. The next thing to do is to finish the inside woodwork, as with most projects of this sort, pieces didn’t fit perfectly, adjustments and trims need to be added and the window sides and sills need to be fitted. I have already been choosing paint for the inside. Boyfriend is horrified that I want to paint all that lovely wood, but it’s a little too dark for an art studio at present. When I stand inside I get that line from a Beetles song in my head: “Isn’t it good, Norwegian wood?”

Men are wonderful and clever at lots of things but should never be allowed to choose décor. The only ones I have ever met with any idea of taste or colour sense have been gay or narcissists. The average heterosexual male can only see the following colours: Bright Red, Cobalt Blue, White (walls) Silver (chrome) and Black (leather). Did you know men are also four times more likely to be colour blind than women? I once had such a student in my class, a lovely chap who drew very well, but had trouble with paint. “Is this ok?” he asked one day whilst painting pink shadows on snow. He confided in me after class that when he was growing up he thought the family cat was green.

So having dispensed with male interior design advice, I intend to leave the large ceiling beams exposed, and paint the rest a soft off white. Other woodwork may be painted soft grey-green or aqua, tester pots have been purchased. Paint colours have been challenging as the ranges tend to have softer wall colours, and strong ‘woodwork’ colours, which is not much help when the walls are also the woodwork.

I would like to work on the studio all the time, but art business must be kept up with, at least the urgent stuff. Wednesday morning I went to hang my work in the local church in the centre of town for the Summer Art Show, featuring local artists. I have a screen 4ft by 6ft. As well as large watercolours I am displaying some mosaics. I am always a little nervous about the possibility of theft with these. I have never had work stolen, but it happens. I defy anyone to shove one of my large glazed paintings under their jacket, but the mosaics are much easier to pick up. Today (Friday) I must take my turn at Stewarding. I can think of better things to do for three hours than sit in the church, but local exhibitions are only run with the help of the participants, and we all have allocated tasks to complete. I am also helping to put sold work in A-Z order ready for collection on Sunday at the end of the exhibition. Which in itself is a task charged with optimism; let’s hope the quantity of sales warrants my alphabetical skills. I have also just found out that the lovely lady artist who is sharing this task with me is dyslexic!

Last night I went to the private view with my friend G. I tried to persuade the teen to accompany me but she was disgusted with the food last time, which is frankly the only reason she attends. Crisps, cheese straws and apple juice are her preferences, but in an attempt to go ‘up market’ the organisers of the previous exhibition prepared smoked salmon (we are vegetarian and do not eat fish), some scary looking canapés with indeterminate filling, and sparkling elderflower drink. The teen, surprisingly, won’t touch anything fizzy. As a result she skulked around and yawned loudly during the opening speech.

Because of her refusal to come last night, I was unable to undertake something I like to call ‘Undercover Market Research’, which my daughter vulgarly calls spying. Have you ever wondered what people are saying about your artwork when you are not around? You too can benefit from undercover market research. You will need the following items:

1 Teenager (borrow one if you don’t have your own)

1 Bar of chocolate (to pay your teenager)

Next it is a simple matter of positioning your teenager near to your work. Whilst you socialise elegantly at the other side of the room, the teenager listens in to feedback about your stuff. Unlike an adult, people will never find it unusual that a teenager is loitering about looking vacant. It’s just what they do. Despite the pitfalls of the inaccuracy of teenage reporting, nevertheless you will hear things people would never say about your work within earshot. It’s funny and interesting, but I would not recommend undercover market research for those of a sensitive disposition. And remember, don’t part with the chocolate until your teenager has completed their task, if you feed them first you won’t see them for dust.

Breaking News: How exciting, I have sold 1 painting and two mosaics. One little blue and white heart mosaic that I don’t even have a photo of, it was only 10cm by 10cm, and my most recent painting and mosaic (see photos). Strange I should have sold such recent work, perhaps I am improving… Apparently at the Private view 20 pieces of work were sold, proof that there are still people around untouched by the recession. That’s me happy then, and it will help towards the new studio furniture I need to purchase!

Rain stops play

2010-07-14T23:50:00.000+01:00

In East Anglia where I live it had not rained until Monday for three weeks. This is most unusual, and Britain as a whole has been sent into shock by the unnerving sight of the colour blue in the sky. Of course my main worry was that the weather would break just as the studio was delivered. It came on Monday, dropped off apparently by a cheery Polish chap with a body like Schwarzenegger. In the end I stupidly ensured rain by doing the only thing that is guaranteed to make it pour, I moved some paintings around. If there is ever another terrible drought in Ethiopia or other African country, all the UN need do is air lift me and my little pink Vauxhall Corsa over. As soon as I pull a few paintings out of the boot the heavens will open, the locals will rejoice and crops will grow green and strong.

So the studio build has been on and off with the rain, and as of last night was about 3 feet high. Today it has reached apex height and windows are being put in. Fearing theft and warping from rain, boyfriend has filled the garage and dining room with the wood and windows. Due to the adjustments needed during assembly he is permanently coated in a find dusting of sawdust. A tarpaulin covered the half made walls overnight. Although getting it built is physical hard work, the longest job will be fitting it out. It needs a sink, heating, electrics, lights, worktops and of course, most importantly, pretty cushions, and rich tea biscuits.

My Saturday class has finished now and it is on to the one-day courses soon, plus chasing up the inevitable one or two people who have not booked in for autumn. I have a waiting list for Saturdays, so if places are empty, I can hopefully fill them. I have already had 6 bookings for the Mosaic one-day course I have arranged for November. There are a couple of local exhibitions coming up soon, and when I went to pick up from the latest Colchester Art Society exhibition I was delighted to find I had sold a Monoprint. The print was of a dove, and I have sold a couple of them unframed in the last year, a reminder that I must add ‘Do some printing’ to my long list of activities I am not finding time for.

Forgive the poor quality of the image; monoprints are a nightmare to photograph, due to the sheen on the ink. For this reason I no longer put them on my website, although now I have a better camera it may be time to try again.

Time is even shorter this week as I am a taxi for my daughters 2 weeks of work experience. She has been lucky enough to get a place at a local stately home and gardens. Famed for its Tudor days, many locals get involved and don costumes. This is why you can sometimes find the odd person wearing doublet and hose, or medieval robes wandering round Tesco when you pop in for a loaf of bread. Although the teen is mainly interested in the gardens she has been given a variety of tasks. On the first day she helped out in the kitchens.

“How was it?” I asked when I collected her. She shuddered and fixed me with a serious stare. “If you visit,” she said, “never under any circumstances eat the food.” Only cowardice and a fear of legal action prevent me from relating the stories she told me on the journey home. Suffice it to say insects were involved.

Now that the studio is being built, I went this afternoon to visit the Estate Agents I rent my house through, and give notice. Now comes the major job of going through all my stuff and packing up. Cupboards and paintings I have hung must be removed and walls made good, in order that my deposit is returned. Despite my obsessive tidiness, everywhere I look now seems full of stuff I no longer use, and won’t have room for. I am filled with, in equal parts dread of going through it all and delight at having a huge clear out. I am not a hoarder, being so keen on throwing stuff out that I once had to buy my own blouse back from a charity shop, when regret set in. But it sits uncomfortably with me that despite my take-no-prisoners attitude to clutter, I still seem to have accumulated large amounts of excess possessions, books being the number one crime. A question haunts me… Who bought all that crap and put it in my house?

Happy hypochondriacs

2010-07-06T14:03:00.000+01:00

This photo was taken yesterday, and shows the cement being put in place between the sleepers, ready to support the new studio. There is a gap between one being left for the insertion of water pipes and electric cables. It’s not the most interesting photo, in fact what happened 5 mins later when my boyfriend accidentally sat in the big bowl of water he puts out for the birds was far more amusing. But I fear if I put a photo of that on the internet I may not have a studio, or indeed a boyfriend. The studio has now been ordered and arrives next Monday! Wow; what has until now been an abstract, if exciting idea will actually be a big pile of wood and glass on the front lawn ready for assembly.

I meant to post on this blog last night, but for the last week or so keep feeling tired. My throat glands are all puffed up, although I don’t seem to have a cold. I am generally a bit of a worrier about health. I am not a hypochondriac, as I think the definition of being one is you don’t know it. I can’t be bothered to go to the doctor. And waiting rooms are germy. If I were a doctor I would insist on seeing people in one of those head to toe white suits they use on CSI. I would probably spray them with Dettox Multi-Surface as they walked in too. Luckily like the rest of the world I can now just see Dr Google. Before going on to the internet to check out my symptoms I steel myself for the worst. It is a theory of mine that if you put any minor symptom into a search engine it will come up with several incurable diseases and at least three types of cancer. True to form, the usual fatal stuff comes up, but the most common reason for inflamed glands is a virus. I’ll have one of those then. Don’t fancy any of the other stuff.

My daughter is on the other hand a fully-fledged card carrying hypochondriac. When she comes in from school, particularly after PE, the moaning starts: The headaches, the ‘I feel so sick I am going to FAINT’ (she never does) and the ever recurrent comedy limp that surfaces just before Karate class on Friday evenings and frequently changes leg, disappearing entirely for short periods when Bon Jovi are on the radio. Listening to her list of ailments is like when you ask an 80 year old how they are, and then really wish you hadn’t. For this reason I never let her off school. Like the boy who cried wolf, I can’t ever be sure she is actually sick for real.

So this week she tries a different tack: “Can I get off school tomorrow?”

“No”

“But there aren’t any lessons”

“Don’t be ridiculous”

“Seriously! We have to spend the whole day learning about knife crime. I don’t need to learn about knife crime, do I? It’s rubbish, why can’t I stay home?”

I must say, despite her obsession with martial arts and a recent liking for German heavy metal, it is unlikely she would become involved with knifes. Her tough act doesn’t fool me. I saw her watching Gardeners World the other day.

She plays her highest card, dramatically: “None of my friends are going in, and I will have to sit next to that annoying boy who flicks paper balls at me in maths.”

“None of your friends say they are going in, it’s not the same thing. You are going to school.”

The teen went to school. All her friends went to school. School is at times boring and rubbish. But then so is life. And what were all those Geography lessons for, if not to prepare us for a life time of traffic jams and dentists waiting rooms?

The last week or so has been productive in terms of work. Feeling a bit under the weather has meant I have been using gym/swim time for extra paperwork. I finally published my latest article Understanding Watercolours, and am very pleased with it. I am recommending it to any of my students who are having trouble sleeping. It’s doing the trick nicely apparently zzzzzzz. I have also been madly booking venues and typing up forms and literature for Autumn classes and courses. It may seem crazy to be planning November already, but experience has taught me that you need to plan well in advance to get enough bookings for courses. Teaching is hard work, and it is years of careful planning, and attention to detail that have finally paid off with full classes. Looking back at my decision to start teaching with an ‘easier’ kid’s class now makes me laugh. Kids easy? What was I thinking?

I have also finished a painting of the local ‘railway walk’ which I am pleased with, and may enter it into the forthcoming Sudbury Summer Art Show. This week I went back on an unwritten resolution not to do any art projects for charity/free this year and have agreed to do a workshop in Colchester Castle Museum in October for the yearly ‘Big Draw’. It’s not that there is anything wrong with doing stuff for free, but it was getting out of balance, and I needed to concentrate on my own work during this busy year. But I like the Big Draw, and I love museums, so couldn’t resist. It’s only a day, and they have given me a nice lunch break to go shopping.

Despite my temporary desertion of my internet shop due to lack of time, I did sell a postcard, which just reminds me that I really must get back to it soon.

'Lighthouse, Southwold' postcard by michelewebber
Browse more Coast Postcards

With the stress of the ever closer house move starting to get to me I decided to start reading again. I read very fast, and find it relaxing. I have just started Jack Dee’s ‘Thanks For Nothing’, his Autobiography. He is my favourite comedian. At the start of the book where people usually thank their agents and families Jack makes it entirely clear his agent is a waste of space, and without the interference of his family, he could frankly have got the job done a whole lot quicker. Classic stuff.

Time travel and other pursuits

2010-06-18T14:13:00.000+01:00

After a frustrating gap where nothing has been able to proceed on the studio build, at last some progress. Boyfriend came off 12 hour shifts, and a bloke in Norfolk finally delivered the sleepers that are to be the base for the studio to sit on. The photo shows the sleepers in place, the result of several afternoons work by my boyfriend and his dad. The calm picture does not hint at the heated discussions they had over the interpretation of the word ‘level’. I kept quiet. Never come between two men and a spirit level.

A couple of weeks ago I received an email about an ‘Art Day’ at Layer Marney Tower, near Colchester. Reduced admission fees were offered to art groups who wanted to go and paint. Plus artists were displaying their work and demonstrating. It was short notice, and most of my Saturday group were unavailable, but two wanted to go. R and her husband went along, but with their little grand daughter, it was impossible for R to paint, and seeing the gorgeous surroundings and stunning flowers she said “We simply must come here again.”
Layer Marney Tower Website

S and I set ourselves up in the gardens, facing a flower bed and interesting window. We wanted to paint the poppies close up, but having forgotten sun cream were forced to retreat to a shady tree a little distance back. Of course as soon as the pictures were started the sun disappeared. Due to the complexity of the subject and the necessity to eat mini cheddars and talk about men, children and clothes, work progressed slowly. You could almost see the disappointment as people wandered past, and saw very little paint on paper. By 3.30pm the wind had got up, we were very chilly, and rain threatened, so we packed up, and went for a wander.

After a quick look at the beautiful poppies and Iris flowers, we went into the long gallery and looked at the artwork, talked to artists (I vaguely knew a couple of them from societies I am in), and generally warmed ourselves up. Then we went up the tower, S surprising me with a sudden attack of vertigo which sent us down again and in search of homemade cake in the tea shop. All in all it was an excellent afternoon, and if it happens again next year I shall certainly go again.

Very little time for artwork this week, as it is already time to plan my Autumn classes and deal with the venue booking etc. But I did at least finish my broken mirror sun mosaic. Next I have to finish a woodland painting started at my friend D’s studio last week, and the Layer Marney garden painting.

I also sold a copy of my beach huts poster on my shop site last week.

'Beach Huts, Southwold' fine art print by michelewebber
See other posters at zazzle.com

After earning 15 cents on the writing platform Squidoo last month, I was excited to earn over $3 this month. Friends find this amusing, but I think it’s great. Earning money just for writing stuff, there is no end to my talent for not doing proper work.

A strange thing has been happening in my house lately, regarding the digital clock on the cooker. I never wear a watch, and so use this often to keep myself on time. But recently I have had to put it forwards as much as 9 minutes, it just keeps losing time.

My daughter has a problem with timekeeping and is constantly late. In fact even to describe her as late is a misnomer as the word late suggests that she might at some stage actually arrive somewhere of her own volition. When told to dress, eat breakfast, get ready for appointments she just goes off and reads a book. The ongoing struggle to make her do anything within some kind of time frame has resulted in rules being implemented as ‘encouragement.’ So, one of the rules is be downstairs by 7.30am or miss breakfast.

Obviously the fashion for starving children went out with the Victorians, but if she is late she gets a drink of milk and a banana instead of cereal (and she doesn’t particularly like bananas.) On Wednesday she was warned to be on time, dark threats were made regarding withdrawal of the five quid she wanted for a youth club trip to the golf driving range that evening, as well as the free (to her if not to me) taxi service. At 7.28am I was in the bathroom (which is next to the kitchen) and she had not appeared. Some considerable time elapsed. I stuck my head round the door to catch her red handed: turning back the clock on the cooker. Astonished and furious I forgot my number one rule - never swear in front of teenagers (sets a bad example.)

“What the **** are you doing to the clock!?” I yelled.

The cooker clock is no simple dial mechanism; a sequence of buttons must be pressed. I wonder how long she has been doing that for. Like a jaded army officer in Afghanistan, I have a feeling that the enemy are getting smarter. And not abiding by the rules of fair conduct. Teens 4 Adults 0. Tactical defeat.

A little me time

2010-06-04T23:11:00.000+01:00

At the end of a hectic and busy week I did a little birthday mosaic workshop for my friend and student S. She bought along 5 friends and they made some little mosaic plaques. In contrast to my previous mosaic workshop a few weeks back they were calmer and less messy. But then the previous group did come in clutching a wine box… My heart sank when I saw the lovely peach coloured nails of one of the girls (a manicurist I think), grout and pretty nails do not get on, I hope she forgives me! Amusingly one of the ladies turned out to be my daughter’s school Textiles teacher.

The teen is away with her dad for half term, and I couldn’t resist teasing her about her teacher by text. She was mortified: “Oh my God!! You didn’t tell her you were my mum did you??? Ha Ha. Adults 1 Teens 0.

The mosaic group were lovely and seemed to enjoy their time; they were young and pretty and made a selection of pretty mosaics, hearts being a favourite. They were given instructions on how to grout them at home. The brightly coloured house number plaque belongs to the teacher; her design training showing through.
Feeling exhausted last week and determined to chill a bit during my child free week, I attended a screen printing taster day. I found it harder than I expected, a day is not long enough of course, and problems arose when layers were not dry. I hadn’t planned anything in advance and it showed. I was expecting to use stencils, but when told about a ‘blocking out solution’, I resorted to a paint brush, being most used to one. Then for the second layer I used cut out pieces of paper, the workshop scalpels being rather challenged in the sharpness department. I had difficulty with the registration (lining up the layers), as I am unused to using a template for this. When it comes to lino prints, I have steady hands so just line up by eye. The photo I have posted is the best one, and I am no means happy with it. In fact when we get our new cat I may line the litter tray with my screen print ‘art’. I have a bit of a liking for folk art motifs and trees though, and may re-visit this type of image in the future.

In all I was hoping for a quicker alternative to lino printing (and the inevitable hand ache and blisters), but whilst I enjoyed the day immensely I am not sure the process is for me. When I got home I Googled around and found that you can use electric wood carving tools on lino: now there's a thought.

I am known for my housework obsession but this week I have done none, not a jot. Instead I have been catching up on the huge pile of sewing repairs that seem to have built up, and doing my usual yearly files clear out, transferring all the stuff to my new cabinet. On Thursday the weather was so good that I decided I simply must spend all afternoon in the garden… but how to work as well, that was the problem. So I pulled out a spare mosaic base and spent a happy afternoon making a sun mosaic from broken mirror and white and yellow crockery. It came out really well, and I will post a photo when it is grouted.

'Valletta, Malta' button (badge) by michelewebber
See other Malta Buttons

Checking my emails at the end of the day: a small sale in my Zazzle store. A badge of my Malta painting, sold to… Mohammed in Dubai. Work that one out if you will, it’s beyond me.

No time to paint

2010-05-28T23:31:00.000+01:00

Years ago I read a book by an author whose name I can’t recall, entitled “No time for work”. It was a memoir of an Irishman’s long career of work avoidance, it was very, very wrong, (particularly the time he spent as a teacher,) but incredibly funny.

At the moment though, there seems too much work. So much that I haven’t picked up a brush all week. My summer courses are getting nearer, bookings to be dealt with and preparation, as well as advertising to be done. The first one is nearly fully booked, but the next two are not, so that needs working on. Unable to do Suffolk Open studios due to the impending house move, I have at least entered a couple of local exhibitions, these as usual require paperwork, submissions, turns taking stewarding etc. This week in addition to my normal Saturday morning class there is a mosaic workshop I am doing in the afternoon. Same venue; teach class, come home, swap equipment, go back. Of course it’s nice to be busy, but there is little time to paint, or to catch up with the internet work and website updates I need to do.

At my class last week someone bought in a photo to work from, I was rather taken by it. Not the photo itself you understand, but the fact that it was laminated. I have never been a fan of the recent obsession to encase everything in plastic, but I am having a lot of trouble keeping the photos I use for classes in good condition. My Saturday class has 13 students, and about just over half the time we work from photos. I never use them for still life or flowers, but they are necessary for boats, landscapes etc. And I am afraid they get spoiled. I don’t blame the class, I have done it so many times myself, water or paint splashes and splatters, and there goes another photo that was costly to print, or that was saved from a long discarded magazine. So this morning my new laminator arrived from Amazon, and now I can begin the process of laminating about a zillion pictures.

This coincides with the arrival a few days ago of my super new filing cabinet for the studio. It is currently in the front room downstairs; I can’t be bothered to drag it upstairs to my office when I move so soon. It is not normal apparently to be so enamored by a filing cabinet, but for someone who loves organisation as much as me, it’s the best thing in the world. So all the old files are being sorted out, labels are being made and it will soon contain business, car, household paperwork and the new laminated photos, in categories obviously. So that is adding extra work, and lets not even mention the tax return…

My friend R visited this week, she is a proper (school) art teacher. “Students,” she said “Drain you of your creative energy” Well I love my students, and enjoy teaching, but it’s an interesting thought.

One of my favorite sayings at home is “I bet Van Gogh didn’t have to deal with this sort of crap” and I said it again when I discovered my daughter had spilled half a bottle of shampoo over her karate suit/sports bag. From an early age I have taught her that spills must be dealt with immediately, so of course she left it all weekend without telling me. Long enough for the brown belt (yes she is surprisingly good) to seep its colour onto the karate trousers. It doesn’t help that the washing machine has died and I am now driving laundry over to the new house 3 times a week.

And on the subject of teenagers, they are often underestimated in terms of how resourceful they can be. So here is a tip for teens, learned last week from my own clever daughter: It is important for teenagers at all times to have access to computer games and other virtual entertainment, lest they be forced to spend too much time in the real world (boring.) If the batteries to your Wii Sports Resort remote should run out, be aware that you can swap them for the ones in your parent’s new cordless computer mouse. Wait ‘til they are out obviously. Whilst you are in the office help yourself to any stuff you need like sellotape etc. Don’t worry if the batteries you put in are leaking that acid stuff, just remember the teenage mantra (deny everything, deny everything.) This will save you the exhausting business of working out how the battery charger works, and give you some additional entertainment, as your irate parent tries to work out what on earth is up with the mouse, and why the sellotape has disappeared again.

So with an office that looks like an explosion in Staples, a teenager on a mission to send me insane, laundry problems, and no time to paint there is only one thing to be done. Book a course. I always do this when I need to re-charge creatively and just find time to put paintbrush to paper. So on Tuesday I am doing a screen-printing taster day (I have never done screen printing ever, so should be fun), and next month I am doing a short garden painting course, I go most years, to the artist who taught me to paint. Because attending classes is relaxing and inspiring, but teaching them, whilst rewarding, is hard work.

The good news this week is that we have had the go ahead from the planners to put the new studio up. A base must first be laid though, and sadly my boyfriend is also too busy working. His company has put him on 12 hour night shifts and all he does is eat, sleep and repeat himself a lot (sleep deprivation.)

Well I knew this summer would be trying, so I am keeping a picture in my head: Beautiful new garden studio, organised filing system and an lock to keep out teenagers, erm I mean intruders…

Squirrel Portraits

2010-05-19T21:27:00.000+01:00

As a kid I only drew two things (in Biro): pop stars and animals. I was good at animals. Recently though, animals have been fraught with difficulty. It’s because I specialize in watercolour; there is something about the medium that just doesn’t say fur. I think it is no coincidence that most of the successful wildlife artists use oils or pastels. It’s the brush or pastel strokes you need. I am sure that there are watercolour artists who specialise in animals, but the ones I have seen use semi-abstract fluid marks with great simplicity. But if you are going for realism and detail, pure watercolour is difficult. I have had success with birds; the crisp edges of watercolours do feathers a treat.

Then there is the fact that I don’t particularly like a lot of the bigger animals. I understand paintings of majestic lions and tigers sell well, but I don’t really feel any empathy for large smelly mammals with sharp teeth and bad breath. I rather like little things, frogs, fish, butterflies, stuff that hangs around my garden with no intention of eating me. Of course I have been tempted to try wildlife art, there is no doubt it sells well, but it isn’t easy to get copyright free photos. And my budget barely stretches to a day at Mersea Island and an ice cream, I can’t just pop off on Safari.

Reading an article on a top wildlife artist a few months ago I was interested to see he had an arrangement with a photographer. Unwanted shots were purchased copyright free for a few quid, what a good idea! Well you might be wondering what all this wildlife musing is leading to… in a nutshell (pardon the pun) it’s squirrels; or to be more particular the squirrel in the picture above. This particular squirrel is one of several who visit my boyfriend’s father’s house. They jump up to the window sill and wait for the walnuts that are handed out from an open window, its very sweet to see, and a perfect photo opportunity. So when I found a gorgeous squirrel photo that boyfriend had taken, I couldn’t resist trying to paint it, despite previous dodgy offerings with fur and watercolour.

I started with a background of pure watercolour washes, keeping it splashy and softening the edges where it met the fur. Then I built up the squirrel, starting with watercolour, moving on to watercolour pencil, which I built up in layers and softened with water, and finished with Gouache, using both black and white (not generally in my palette) and a rough, dry brush to build up the fur effect. It was not my intention for it to be a fine art piece, the best I thought it might be worthy of was a t-shirt or a mug on my merchandise store. But actually I am very pleased with it, and may even put it into a frame. Its given me a new appreciation for wildlife art too, its really labour intensive. I think I will do a few more animals in the future; after all I used to be good at them. The teen is unimpressed, it looks, she says “like a rat”.

Often the difference between success and mediocrity for artists is just a bit of luck. So I am hoping for a lucky break. All it takes now is for Lady Gaga or Paris Hilton to get a pet squirrel and my new career as rodent portrait artist will really take off. Then I will be able to afford that safari.

Best foot forwards…

2010-05-12T21:59:00.001+01:00

When I was at school I was very happy to be double jointed. I would push my thumb down level with my arm to amazed and disgusted exclamations from classmates. Yoga classes were fun too, it was cool to be flexible.

But then when I was 22 I found a lump on my foot and the doctor pronounced bunions, which I thought only old people got. Deformation of the bone, caused by soft ligaments not supporting the foot properly… perhaps being double jointed was not such fun. By my late 20s my feet were painful, deformed and a real nuisance. Only ugly boots fitted and eventually I decided on surgery. Doing one foot at a time, with a 6 month gap, the bones were broken (local anaesthetic), re-set with metal pins and I hobbled about on crutches for nearly four months each time.

Well now my feet are fine, but I must be careful, as it is a problem which can return. And more importantly it can be hereditary. The teen can do the thumb trick too. So despite my generally broke single mum status, shoes are not skimped on, they must be leather and good quality. So when my daughter wandered in from school this week and announced “My shoes don’t fit” (looking about her as if a pair might magically appear), I resigned myself to spending the equivalent of a weeks food money at the local quality shoe shop.

The teen’s feet were measured, and pronounced to be size 5.5 (the same as mine) and we asked to see some school shoes. “We don’t have any that size” said the shop assistant with the carelessness that only lack of competition in a small market town can engender. With no time to get to a bigger town, I decided to order from Clarks online, my favourite shoe store. Except Clarks refuse to sell school shoes without fitting them, and will only send them to the nearest shop which is Colchester, half an hour away. I fire off an email to Clarks pointing out that my daughter is nearly 15 and knows when her shoes are too tight, besides this is an adult size! But I am out of options, so order the shoes.

Meantime, despite being behind with work, I accept an invitation from my friend D to go and paint for the day. I take along the painting of a boat at Snape Maltings I am working on. I am unhappy with it, and it is not going well. “Hmm says D, you have done the water too dark, and now you are fighting to resolve the rest” He is right of course, but I try to increase the tonal values, to at least get it looking reasonable. Whilst we paint, D enthuses about an exhibition he has seen at the Minories gallery in Colchester. “You simply must see it” he says, showing me the catalogue. Ah well, I can go when I pick up the school shoes I think. At the end of the day, D thinks my painting is not one of my best, “But you have improved it” he says hastily. “Don’t spend too much longer on it, it’s making you unhappy” he says perceptively.

So off to Colchester I go. It’s the last place I want to be on a Saturday afternoon, when I have worked all morning. It should take about 25 mins, but an hour and many traffic jams later we finally park. We pick up the school shoes from Clarks, served by a teen who looks barely older than her customer. “Do you want to try them on or anything?” She says in a disinterested voice, making me even madder that they wouldn’t send them by post. Then it is on to the shops and an attempt to get my daughter who has the complexion of a Nordic milk bottle to have a sun hat. But she doesn’t like any. She picks a floral one for me though, and I am unsure if she thinks it suits me, or she just wants to make me look stupid. But I buy it anyhow because I like it. The teen is by now too hot, bored, tired, starving hungry, her legs hurt and her jumper itches. I realise any attempt to drag her round an art gallery will be met by advanced sabotage in the form of loud sarcasm and whinging. She does like private views, but mainly for the cheese straws. In the end I pacify her with a chocolate bar and we head home. I will have to try to make the exhibition another time…

Unintentional publications!

2010-04-29T17:44:00.001+01:00

A couple of days ago I learned the importance of thinking before you press computer buttons. To be honest it’s a lesson I never seem to learn. Whilst very busy I have been working intermittently on an article about a commissioned watercolour I finished a couple of weeks ago. The article is up on the Squidoo site, and one of the best things about Squidoo is you don’t have to publish until you have got it just right.

Unless you stupidly hit ‘Publish’ when you meant to hit ‘Save Draft’ of course. So after a 3 hour panic where I was forced to finish it at speed, here it is:

Read my diary of a watercolour commission here

This is the painting I did, and the article tells the story of how it came to be.

In addition to the usual trying to paint, arguing with teenagers, and in vain efforts to keep on top of the paperwork… I did a mosaic workshop on Saturday for a private birthday party.

Initially I had not been keen to do it, as it was a Saturday I should have been running my usual class, also it was some distance away, and there is an awful lot of stuff to cart about for mosaics, not to mention the health and safety implications when working with broken crockery, the stuff is lethal, and easily as sharp as glass. However, mistaking my lack of enthusiasm for skilful bargaining the gallery owner offered me more money, and in the end it was arranged. The mosaic technique I practice is called Pique Assiette, which means ‘picked plate’ in French, and refers to the idea of making mosaics from found materials and broken crockery etc, and it is becoming more popular, as people take more interest in recycling. And to be honest it’s a whole lot more interesting than those little ready made glass tesserae you get.

My friend and Saturday student Sarah had volunteered to come and help me, which was very kind of her. She was keen to learn the technique, and I picked her up at 8am (ouch!) Saturday morning. On arrival we learned that the workshop was for a lady who didn’t know what she was coming too, just that it was something crafty. A group of 10 friends came in, men and women about equal numbers, and they were all in high spirits. I provided them with wooden bases, and we set about making plaques. There was not time to grout the work but they produced some super stuff, and I left them with instructions on how to finish off at home. We shared some of the buffet lunch and another artist arrived to do mixed media painting with them in the afternoon. By this time wine had begun to flow and they were all very happy when we left them. Apparently every time someone in the group has a birthday they do a different activity, what a fabulous idea! Unfortunately the group made it clear I was not to put their photos on the internet, but I am sure they will not mind me posting a photo of the delightful plaques they made, all ready to grout. The most unusual one was the chap who made a rugby ball and some red roses for England! Sarah’s is the pretty red heart with white background, here is a close up of it:

Planning on planning

2010-04-23T19:15:00.003+01:00

The last couple of weeks we have been thinking about the new studio I want. A builder who was two and a half hours late, (always a good sign) quoted us just below every last penny we have for the project. The quote was for a brick building with a flat roof (budget restrictions) and it didn’t sound attractive.

An architect visited and pointed out several things the planners may object to including nearby bridleways and trees. He suggested a wooden building instead and offered to put a quote in for an initial survey with recommendations. He never actually submitted this.

Meantime I scoured the internet for wooden buildings. Most were much like sheds, and I feel the cold, besides I have no intention whatsoever of suffering for my art. A few were proper studios, very modern, companies based in London, costing about 10k per sq metre. Then at last, a reasonably priced company, selling large wood cabins and offices with nice thick insulation and double glazing. The nearest showroom was Bedford, and on Sunday we drove out. I was pleased with the cabins and found one I liked.

Wednesday was spent filling out the form you fill out to see if you need planning permission. This involved drawing a to-scale plan of the house, garden and surrounding areas. Despite my CSE in Technical Drawing this was not an easy task, mainly due to the difficulty of measuring the garden, which is far from square, with several inaccessible areas due to big shrubs. We notice that neighbours have also taken advantage of the previous elderly occupant to pinch a foot of land behind the garage.

Late afternoon I pay over a fiver to guarantee next day delivery. “It’s only going to Hadleigh” mutters the lady at the post office. But I know better than to underestimate the council’s ability to lose stuff and claim never to have received it. Just to make me feel like I am getting value for money, I log on to the Post Office website next day, where apparently I can enter a number and track my package. “This service is currently unavailable” says the website.

But I needn’t worry, an email turns up from the planners, acknowledging receipt and assuring us they will try and reply within 4 weeks. But it may be longer due to ‘Other service demands’ The letter ends with ‘we look forward to receiving your cooperation’ which sounds like a phrase the Chinese government might have used to tell you they intend to knock down your house to build the Olympic village.

Years ago I worked as a clerk at East Herts District Council planning dept. It was in the ‘80’s, and the strength of the Civil Service Union meant that the management had little luck in making anyone do any work, particularly if it meant lifting anything heavier than a paperclip. On a Friday everyone had saved up their flexitime for a two and a half hour pub lunch at the local which sold fruit wines strong enough to kill rats. Occasionally I was left to cover reception. Irate people would phone, demanding to speak urgently to planners and building control officers. I could hardly tell them that the entire building was at the pub, and when they came back they would be in no condition to speak to the public.

Lets hope things are more efficient at the planning department nowadays, but as my boyfriend points out, if it takes over four weeks for them to tell you whether you need to apply for planning permission, how long in heavens name does it take for actual planning permission?

Planes, Trains and Van Gogh

2010-04-16T00:39:00.000+01:00

In the middle of an exceptionally busy time for me, on Sunday, a day off! The date had finally come round for my friend and student Sarah and I to go to London to see the exhibition: “The real Van Gogh, the artist and his letters.” We had tickets for the Royal Academy, and they were timed entry, so we needed to be there at 2pm. Generally I ignore my local town train station and drive to Colchester. It is only 20 minutes away, and that way I can get straight on the fast train to London. But not this time; due to the line maintenance there were no direct trains running. So it was train from Colchester to Witham, bus to Billericay, train to Liverpool St London, then two tube trains.

But we made it. The rooms were quite dimly lit, to preserve the letters, which were displayed, often next to the paintings they refer to. They were not translated in full, but nevertheless they were fascinating. The first thing that struck me was the fact that nearly all contained sketches. Some were studies, or illustrations of things seen, most in pen, some coloured, one contained a picture of the brushes Van Gogh wished his brother to buy, amazingly brush design appears to have not changed in over 100 years. In an age before cameras, Vincent would draw a small thumbnail sketch of his latest painting to show his brother.

The exhibition was arranged in rooms, in chronological order. The first room contained many of Vincent’s attempts to master proportion and perspective, and his letters detailing the making of a device, a frame with crossing wires, which he is delighted has helped him. You can still buy little Perspex versions of these in art shops. In fact the first painting Sarah and I look at is a still life on a table, the perspective is definitely out. How reassuring to know that someone so talented struggled like the rest of us.

A phase follows where complimentary colours are explored: “No blue without yellow and without orange” writes Vincent. A stunning still life of oranges on blue illustrates how complimentary colours glow. Another painting, designed to showcase pink roses against a blue and green background, has faded to white flowers, as the paint used was not stable. I wonder if it was Alizarin Crimson, a notoriously fugitive pigment. We modern painters are lucky to have new replacements. It’s only just over a hundred years, and it’s a completely different colour. I feel suddenly justified in being so fussy about my paints. It’s one of the reasons I don’t do much collage, although I love it, I can’t bear to think of the inevitable fading…

Other rooms contained portraits, sketches inspired by Japanese woodblock prints and many more letters. I was struck by a rare letter in English to an acquaintance in the country. The letter is beautifully composed with excellent grammar, by someone who is often portrayed as coarse and uncouth. It seems the real Van Gogh was rather more cultured. Books read by Van Gogh were displayed, including one I have read myself (The Christmas Books by Dickens) and there is an overwhelming sense that reading and writing were in a way as important as painting.

Overall the exhibition was worth the long journey, and the fact that as is always the case at such popular exhibitions, quiet contemplation was impossible, there being at all times elbows, rucksacks and tall people to squeeze between. I am left wondering about the connection between the need to paint and the need to write. In a modern age would Van Gogh have been on Blogger, or facebook? It’s an amusing thought. Not as amusing as the text I get from my daughter on the way home… “Actually I am very clever and I know who Van Goth is he painted sunflowers and people I think”

Insure yourself: a cautionary tail

2010-04-06T13:43:00.002+01:00

A couple of weeks ago I had an unpleasant experience. It started when one of my closest friends forgot my birthday. But that wasn’t unpleasant, my birthday is just after Christmas, and someone always forgets it, and like everyone I occasionally miss a birthday too, so I thought nothing of it. And when, a few days later she offered to buy me lunch to make up for it, I was positively pleased she had forgotten. I will crawl across broken glass for a nice lunch out.

“I have got you the best present” said my friend L as I tucked into Italian salad, and went on to explain that she had put in a word for me at the business centre where she works, and they wanted to display my art on the walls. This was good news indeed, I am not stuffy about where I display my work, and have had more sales from cafes and offices than smart galleries. There is something about people having time to ‘get to know’ a painting that makes them more likely to buy.

The receptionist seemed to be in charge of sorting it out, so I arranged to take a painting to show her, although I soon discovered that the reception job was shared between several people. The offices were large with a reassuring security button entrance, past the reception area, no access to the general public. They were modern and clean, with large hallways and a hireable conference room. Receptionist 1 liked my work and asked me to bring in as much as I like.

Over the next couple of weeks I retrieved paintings from here and there, in order to rotate the ones I had out, and have enough to display at the business centre, the paintings were cleaned, wrapped for transportation, new ones were labelled and they were logged out in the book I use to keep track of them. 3 small posters were designed and laminated to give information on the artwork. 12 paintings were taken to the business centre where receptionist 2 was delighted to receive them, and as I left was arranging to have them hung.

2 weeks later I bumped into L at the gym, asking her how the paintings looked, I was disturbed to find that they had not hung them yet. I phoned the centre. Receptionist 1 answered and asked frostily if the work was insured. I explained that my insurance only covers properly curated gallery exhibitions, and that she should check to see if the centre’s insurance covered them. I asked her to phone me straight back. Another week went by and my daughter scribbled a phone message back on my desk. The work is not insured it said, please contact us. (On the plus side the teen took a message!)

Now it is not that insurance is unimportant, or that they should not have raised the issue. But it should have been raised at the initial meeting. They left my work laying around in a back room without contacting me, time is most definitely money (as is petrol) and they have wasted mine. Arranging quickly to collect my work, I arrived to meet a new receptionist (number 3.) She was charming and apologetic as she handed me a form; “sorry” she said, “but I can’t give you the work unless you sign a release form” Nice that they were now doing things by the book, and I wondered what would happen if I told them to shove their form. But it wasn’t her fault, and I even resisted signing it “Van Gogh.”

The worst of it is, I think I have been a victim of office politics. Perhaps the good intentions of my friend put someone’s nose out of joint, or one of the receptionists did not like the other one. I temped in offices for enough years to know about the petty vindictive practices that some long term employees thrive on. My three laminated posters have also disappeared, even though I asked for them back.

I am too busy to worry about it at present, and will address the issue of insurance when my new studio is built. Meantime perhaps I will display the work in my favourite local French café again. The walls are made of something resembling cream cheese, and the ever changing display of artwork only stays up by a combination of luck, and the fact that gravity has so far been too busy to take an interest. And on the day one of the paintings falls on someone’s head, the owners will no doubt look them in the eye, and explain in the epitome of French politeness (the sort that gives the person they are speaking to no doubt of their inferiority) “Ah oui madam, but I think perhaps you should av choose a different seat, no?”

Cleaning time

2010-03-29T21:57:00.000+01:00

My friends and family often joke about me having OCD when it comes to cleaning, as a friend said, I ‘Run a tight ship’. Luckily I have actually met people with OCD, so I know I am not even close to that strange planet they inhabit. Besides, my crazy daughter will actually walk to the end of the hallway to switch the light out, so the switch is ‘the right way up’. And clean and tidy makes me happy. But now there is extra cleaning to do.

Last week my boyfriend moved into the house he has purchased for us. I am moving in later, during the summer. The house was previously owned by an old person and has not been cleaned in years. With my boyfriend’s sister helping, I spent a day getting filthy, hovering cobwebs off every wall and ceiling, scraping off grease and food marks, and attacking the bathroom with screwdrivers, so thick was the limescale. The toilet is still giving me nightmares and the area the estate agents optimistically described as a kitchen is even worse.

Then there is the general mess to contend with. The house is full, and all I have moved in so far is a token cactus. Boyfriend has not exactly labeled boxes, preferring a more intuitive method I like to call ‘man packing’. Its success relies on saying loudly and often ‘I know where everything is’. He announced this confidently several times before we went to Tesco to buy replacement television cables for the ones he can’t find. But the house has a lovely light feel, and I think it will be really super when we have sorted it out. Most exciting of all, the builder is coming soon to talk about building my garden studio. I can’t believe I am getting a studio, it’s like a dream.

Today was mostly taken up with another trip to the orthodontist. The teen now has a bright blue brace, and is bemoaning the banning of corn on the cob and jelly babies from her diet. The week gets even busier from here on, as I have a new private student tomorrow, and a commission to paint a local village. The photo I have been given is less than ideal, and the weather is too foul to get another at the moment.

Finally though, I finished my article on learning to draw, called A Beginners Guide to Drawing. I am very proud of it, and it has been well received on the Squidoo, the site where it lives, which has made all those late nights on the computer worthwhile.

For Charlotte

2010-03-22T22:34:00.000Z

I knew in advance that this particular Monday was going to be crappy. My daughter was booked in to have two teeth removed, in advance of getting a brace next week. Considering she has had hysterics in the past over a splinter in the finger, I didn’t have high hopes for the dental visit or its aftermath. But then on Sunday things got a whole lot worse:

After much begging, for her sixth birthday my daughter got a big lop eared bunny. She named it Charlotte for no discernible reason. The rabbit was rather lazy, didn’t like cleaning itself, hence mess and fur knots that frequently had to be dealt with. I bought it a walking harness, thinking it wouldn’t go near the thing, but from the minute I did up the buckles and attached the lead it was off, delighted with the access to weeds on the lawn. So every morning my daughter walked the rabbit before school, I made her for years, until middle and upper school started too early for rabbit walking.

Gradually the novelty of having a rabbit wore off for my daughter, it was boring: it didn’t do anything. I had to admit, the rabbit gave no sign of affection towards humans, though it was a gentle thing. Then one day on a trip to the vets, the vet approaching with rectal thermometer, Charlotte leaped into my arms and buried her head in my coat: in the end she had become my pet. So for the last nine years I have daily cleaned her hutch, fed and stroked her, and yes, in the slightly mad way that only those who work at home all day will understand, talked to her.

Recently she has had trouble walking which I put down to the cold weather and arthritis. But then yesterday we started the monthly job of cutting away the knots around her tail and cleaning her we found the lump, horribly infected and causing huge pain no doubt. So this morning I rushed her to the vets. Certain things could be tried, said the vet, but a cure, no. I should think about her ‘quality of life’. As any pet owner knows, when you hear that phrase it is all over. Or at least if you put humanity above your own emotional needs it is. Seeing my distress the vet said I did not have to be there, I could just sign the form. But Charlotte felt safer with me than any other human being, so I stayed with my little friend until the end.

Barely was I home from the vets when I had to accompany my daughter to the dentist. In the end she was far braver than expected, but it is hard to watch someone pull your offspring’s teeth out with pliers. The teen recovers well and only looked slightly sad when told of bunny’s fate. I however, being well known for being resilient and unsentimental have been crying all day. Just like people, we only realise how much animals mean to us when we lose them.

A couple of links...

2010-03-15T21:19:00.002Z

Just a quick post to put a couple of links up. British blogger Ruralfrance has kindly featured my work on her super blog, where she showcases her photography of the French landscape and rural subjects.Click here to see Ruralfrance's blog Leading on from my last post on the difficulties of sketching and photographing children in today's suspicious and over protective society Judy Adamson adds her thoughts... click here to read

No painting done so far this week as I am writing my second Squidoo article. It will be a beginners guide to drawing, and it is turning into a bit of a telephone directory. Last week I worked on a new illustration for my Zazzle store products. I started out doing illustrations years ago, but fine art was easier to market, so it took a back burner. But fine art does not suit everything, so the idea occured to me to make some hand painted patterns. This one is an easter subject of primroses and eggs. The second I had finished the illustration I knocked the little birds egg I found discarded in my garden years ago and it broke into a pile of dust. It looked like the stuff that dracula turns into at the end of the movies as he crumbles away, hit by sunlight. My student S had just turned up for private tuition, kindly bringing sandwiches for us from the coffee shop. "Eeew, what is that stuff?" she said as we peered at it. "Best not to think about that" I said, sweeping it away with the dustpan, and tucking into my egg sandwich.

'Easter Primroses' greetings card by michelewebber
View more Spring greetings card Cards

'Easter Primroses' Happy Easter mug by michelewebber
cheap personalized mug on zazzle.co.uk

Help, I’m stuck in a George Orwell novel…

2010-03-14T22:51:00.001Z

Running art classes and courses is a bit like publishing a magazine. Whilst my students are preoccupied with this week’s subject, I am thinking, planning and sorting out stuff for 6 months time. Amazingly, it is already time to arrange the summer Saturday classes. So on to the subject of, well, subjects. As usual I ask my class for guidance. Last term two people spoke up simultaneously:
“Ooh, please can we do pastels again”
“Anything except sodding pastels”

Therein lays the problem, one person’s favourite subject/medium is another’s most hated. And then there is the problem of finding photos. Obviously for still life, flowers etc I take stuff in, but for other subjects sometimes photos are needed, and they must be very good photos.

Last week on asking the class the usual question, instead of the usual same old replies someone said “Ballet or Flamenco dancers”. The room hushed in appreciation of this super idea. But of course where do you get the photos? Not on the internet, despite many attempts the images are just not of a high enough definition. And don’t even mention the local library, fat chance of Flamenco dancers there.

And unfortunately the days are gone where artists could just snap or sketch away at anybody they fancied. Can you imagine what would happen nowadays if Degas were to hang around sketching young girls at ballet class? After about 10 minutes mothers with placards would appear shouting “Out paedophile”, and ITN would turn up to film it all. Then the social workers would put all the little ballet dancers on the ‘at risk’ list. ‘No photographs’ says a sign on the swimming pool wall in our town. And as for the ever popular paintings of children playing on the beach, or in the park, it’s a brave artist that takes those photos or sits watching those kids. My boyfriend, a keen reader of photography magazines assures me that photographers who snap public buildings now risk having film and cameras confiscated (terrorists everywhere you know.)

A few months ago I heard an interview on Radio 5. The ‘expert’ was explaining how to spot people in your street who abuse their children. Look for kids that look miserable, and never smile, and listen for parents who seem to shout a lot, she explained. The woman has obviously never had teenagers. I was jumpy for the rest of the day, expecting a knock on the door…

After a particularly tense run in with my daughter a couple of years ago, when I had done something awful, like stopped her from eating her own body weight in chocolate or watching TV for 12 straight hours she yelled at me “I am going to phone ‘Childline’, then I won’t have to live here any more”. Knowing her Achilles heel is her love of food, I replied “Go ahead, but the food is rubbish in children’s homes; no one will make you chocolate pudding or marinated tofu with mushrooms” (her favourite dinner and dessert) She sloped off to her room, in disgust not only that I had won, but at the shocking lack of provision for picky vegetarians in social care.

Many years ago I read Nineteen Eighty-Four, (long before it inspired a couple of rubbish reality TV shows) stunned by its vision of a totalitarian future, it seemed so unthinkable. Yet here we all are. I’m off to yell at my daughter. It’s OK, I am CRB checked.

Captured! The thing with no legs...

2010-03-06T17:17:00.003Z

It has been stalking the night time for months in my house. We know it has been when we find the slime trails in the dining room. Despite twice weekly hoovering it has so far evaded us. It originates from somewhere near the corner radiator under the window. This in itself is a mystery. I mean it’s an old sash window, but no noticeable large gaps. And assuming the thing is an invertebrate, how on earth does it survive behind a very hot radiator? Not to mention the fact that although the window is low, due to the design of my house and steps that lead down through the rooms, the external height of the window is much higher above ground level, meaning that the thing with no legs must be a bit of a climber.

I have tried in vain to hunt it down, but even though I have a special duster thingy for getting behind radiators (leave me alone, cleaning makes me happy), it won’t reach due to the windowsill and radiator brackets blocking access. The thing does not go far; it heads for the area beneath my daughters chair, the dining areas of teens holding rich pickings for scavenging beasts no doubt.

Then last night some luck. After about 3 hours working on the computer in my upstairs office, I strolled to the kitchen for a cuppa. Put the light on in the dining room and there it was. It tried to run (OK I am exaggerating now) but I snapped it on camera and then put it in a glass, and evicted it to the garden. I hate to kill things.

This morning I showed the photo to the teen. “I caught the thing with no legs” I said in triumph, showing her the picture. “Ah, Leopard Slug” said the teen knowledgeably (she is a bit of a biology nerd) “Really?” I said amazed that the thing had a species.

It will probably get back in, but at least this time it has to work for its supper. There’s no room for freeloaders in this house…

Dealing with rejection...

2010-03-04T21:49:00.002Z

Ah well, the artworks organisation rejected me, I have a letter. I don’t mind really. I am not saying that in a ‘put a brave face on it’ way, nor even in an ‘I’m too good for them anyhow, way’ It’s just that as an artist you learn to deal with rejection. Lots of artists, few opportunities, it’s a statistical certainty that you will get rejection letters. And it has saved me a £100 quid membership fee, so hey ho.

When I first became self employed, I made a folder (see photo.) I am a tidy person and as soon as something has a place in my filing system, I feel better. So now when I get a rejection letter it is just something else to file. Punch holes, put in folder, move on.

(Congratulations to Mike, who did get into artworks! 24 Applicants, 3 places)
To see Mike's work click here...

Apart from the usual factors, like personal preference of the people doing the choosing there are 3 other main reasons I may have not got in:

Firstly I didn’t show up to display my own work. OK so I was teaching an art class, but nevertheless it’s hardly impressive is it?

Secondly I am a watercolour painter and there are tons of us. Individuality gets noticed, and I am well aware that I would do better if I made seagulls out of cereal packets or something. But I just love watercolour!

Thirdly I had to submit an ‘Artists Statement.’ Say those two words to any artist you know and watch the face they pull. We all detest them. Most artist statements are full of pretentious rubbish as far as I can tell. Artists are expected to be angst ridden, neurotic beings, living mostly on gin, having studios with paint all over the walls and drawing their art from deep inner feelings of misery and self loathing over unpleasant childhoods and doomed love affairs.

Given free rein with no consequences I would probably write something like this about my art:

MY REAL ARTISTS STATEMENT
I like to paint watercolours. I am not bad at them. I teach other people to paint watercolours, which is enjoyable. I paint stuff I like. I often eat lunch while I am painting, but in the case of cheese and tomato sandwiches, this multi-tasking has not always been entirely successful. Painting can be difficult. Like when the neighbour’s car alarm got stuck on the other day. Sometimes people buy my watercolours which is nice. Then I get money. I like to spend the money on shoes and books.

But the rejection file is only A4. I would have to move up to ‘Lever Arch’ if I sent that out…

Anyhow, enough about rejection. I have finished a new painting of the water meadows (see photo) and sold some stickers to a lady from California. How exciting! But best of all it has been sunny for 3 days, the birds are building nests, and yesterday I saw a frog in my pond. Spring is here at last.

'Valletta, Malta' sticker by michelewebber
Browse other Malta Stickers

On the Move.

2010-02-26T22:10:00.001Z

No the photo is not my kitchen. I know artists are supposed to live in squalor but I have Obsessive Cleaning Disorder. It’s the kitchen of the house my lovely boyfriend is buying for us to live in. As you can see sacrifices must be made if you want to live in the smart end of town. The house needs a little love. The kitchen needs a little work. By work I mean demolition.

This week I have done nothing but travel around; spring is the busiest time for artists, there is a sudden flurry of exhibitions, summers shows and open studios to prepare for, and work hanging around in galleries and shops suddenly seems to require changing.

As I am moving house later this year, I cannot possibly participate in Suffolk Open Studios again, I simply can’t give them a firm address in time for the brochure printing. So I have applied to join an organisation called Artworks, attracted by their Summer Exhibition in Blackthorpe Barns (great venue) and the fact that they seem to like artists to demonstrate during the exhibition. Fabulous, I love showing off.

I applied some time ago, and was pleased to be asked to submit my work for consideration… at least until I noticed it clashed with the weekly adults art class I teach, and was half the county away. I have 13 students and I suspect they will notice if I am not there, (although this may be self delusion.) Luckily two other artists offered to take my work (thank you Sally for offering, and Mike for taking), which just proves what a nice profession this is. I am not getting my hopes up too high, I suspect there are a lot of applicants, and who knows what the criteria is. Rejection is a constant occurrence for artists; it just goes with the territory. There is always a success around the corner; you just have to keep walking.

In addition to the lugging of paintings about here, there and everywhere, (it always rains of course) there is the matter of my teen’s teeth. Of which there are too many for the available space, her mouth is not big enough (resisting obvious pun here). A brace must be fitted, teeth must be extracted and this has so far involved three separate dental appointments this week, two of them a good distance away from home.

So in between logging, labelling, and delivering paintings, visits to Orthodontists and calls to estate agents, housework and enquiries from potential students, this week has disappeared. Visits to the gym have been impossible, swimming missed, and time to paint virtually non existent. You know things are getting on top of you when you realise you have forgotten how to operate the television. Thank goodness for iplayer, I can watch stuff and check my email at the same time…

An Embarrassment of Teenagers

2010-02-19T20:49:00.004Z

It seems to me the development of children goes something like this: Learn to walk. Learn to talk. Learn to embarrass your parents. My daughter started even earlier than that. Age 3 months and in my arms, the doorbell rang. Putting her down carefully I answered the door to take a package from the postman. Despite my efforts to chat happily about the weather he looked at me strangely and made a hasty retreat. Back in the hallway I looked in the mirror to see the big pile of baby sick on my shoulder.

As a four year old my daughter perfected her technique during the walk to school. “Why is that woman so fat?” she said loudly and pointed at the lady in question who was just a few feet away. My friend R’s two children of a similar age went one better. After the loss of a grandparent they spent the next several weeks pointing at elderly people in the street and saying brightly “What about that person mummy, are they going to die soon?”

But recently there has been a development. My daughter has actually managed to embarrass me remotely. I mean from a distance (Nottinghamshire to be precise.)

In the mornings in my house my daughter is expected to do a small chore before school, which is to put away the washing up from the night before. She does this with the care of a guest at a Greek wedding, but nevertheless it is helpful. Just before she went to stay with various family members for half term, I washed up my gym water bottle. The teen put the stuff away as usual, bottle top gone. Vanished; no recollection of it by teen. She looked at me with eyes that doubted such an item had ever existed.

Skip forward to next gym session, when I am forced to use the ‘New Members Joining Package’ gym bottle I found in the cupboard. Apart from the fact that it looks cheap and naff, the lid is a worryingly loose push on type. So there I am on the ‘Excite freestyle’ (the one that looks like you are skiing) and the lid gives way, soaking me and the floor in an outpouring of water. A little like Flashdance, but with worse lighting and more swearing.

Add to the fact that I was wearing a white t-shirt and the gym was full of men and the embarrassment was complete. “Teenager lost my drink bottle lid” I explained to the chap next to me. “You need a new drink bottle” he said. “I need a new teenager” I muttered.

But like a rogue Arab state I have my weapons of mass destruction hidden away for future use, when revenge shall be mine. Most prominent in the armoury is a photo of my little one, just walking, with my friend’s son R. They are both wearing attractive denim dungarees and bright t shirts. My daughter is giving him a kiss on the cheek. We still know the family well and the kids are both in the same year at school. Eighteenth birthday I think. It will look nice in the local paper.

Giant Squids and Snow Scenes

2010-02-15T21:51:00.003Z

Well, the snuffles turned into the worst cold I have had for five years. Having to cancel most of my appointments and in no condition to gym or swim, I was at least able to huddle by the radiator and use the computer. Talking to more experienced sellers on the forum of my merchandise shop site, I am persuaded of the need for internet promotion. Various methods are used by sellers to raise the profile of their own and other people’s products.

Facebook is a popular choice. Forced (literally) by a community arts project I took part in last year to join Facebook, I loathed the whole experience and deleted my account in less than 2 weeks. A small selection of things I hated about Facebook: People I don’t like much sending me ‘friend’ requests, endless invites to stuff I have no interest in, huge amounts of time-wasting stuff like virtual pillow fights, personality quizzes (grew out of those age 13) and games. Plus the site itself is full of bugs, glitches and things that don’t work; I found much of it incomprehensible. Lastly I have friends. Real ones. Always happy to make more of course… but my Facebook days are over.

My time spent on Twitter was even shorter. About 36 hours in total. I love to write but cannot say anything meaningful in so few characters. My tweets included fascinating insights into my life like “I am having a cheese sandwich”. I even bored myself. My account immediately drew lots of followers, mainly American internet marketing ‘experts’. Call me cynical but I don’t think they were interested in my sandwich filling choice. Hey ho, account deleted.

But a while ago I heard about Squidoo. If Wikipedia and Blogger had a baby it would be a Squidoo. It’s basically a site where anyone (yes you too) can make a web page about something they know about, for free. These pages are called ‘lenses’ because they look at something in detail. You will find everything from chocolate mousse recipes to breeding spaniels on Squidoo. The site is fun; with Squid eyeball graphics, and ways to customise your lens. A bad lens (full of nothing but ads and spam) gets labelled a Squidont, and a good lens may be blessed by a Squid Angel.

It took some figuring out but I have made my first Squidoo Lens, and I really enjoyed it. It’s the perfect platform for all those articles on painting I have wanted to write for ages. Plus if you write 50 quality lenses you get to be a ‘Giant Squid’ and what could be better than that?

Check it out here:

visit my Squidoo Lens, about framing and displaying artwork

Feel free to share the page link with anyone who may find the article useful.

Just before I became permanently attached to a box of Kleenex tissues I managed to finish my snow scene sunset (see picture), and now I am on the mend I am starting a new river painting. More about that soon…

A Sale or Three...

2010-02-08T20:25:00.003Z

I returned to my house after a day's painting at my friend D's studio (sunset snow scene nearly finished) and found an envelope on the mat. Hmm, not junk mail so cheque or bill? Closer inspection revealed the frank across the top to read 'Transport Department'. Rats I thought, speed camera got me at last. Not that I speed you understand... but the occasional loss of concentration perhaps, artistic nature looking at trees instead of speed signs.

However the frank mark was a misnomer, someone had just put the mail through at work perhaps, as it was a cheque from a gallery in Bury St Edmunds. A beach huts painting sold. I knew that one would go eventually; I have never painted beach huts and not got a sale, even if it took a while. Beach huts are the artist's equivalent of printing money. I once used Google to find out the top ten subjects sold as art. Whilst beach huts did not come up, the best seller was... wait for it... Dog Portraits. Second was Landscapes, third was Abstract Landscapes. I have also had success with boats, birds and (surprisingly in this modern world) flowers. My favourite subject is gardens, and I have sold a few, but not many. As for still life, some may have success with them, but I never have.

Unfortunately knowing that beach huts sell is not enough to make me paint them non stop. Just can't stick to one thing, too boring, need to move about. And as for dog portraits, sadly I just don't like dogs much. I don't mean I am scared of them, I will happily pat them on the head, they are pleasant enough. But as for the whole barking, smelling, drooling, digging, traipsing in mud, picking up their toilet aftermath, give me a cat any day.

Later the same week, I got notified of two small sales on my new American shop site. Earned me about £2.50 commission, but it's a start. Here are the products that sold:

'Blue tit' sticker by michelewebber
See all other stickers on zazzle.com

'Robin in Spring Snow' postcard by michelewebber
color postcard printing by zazzle.com

And I lost some weight! So all in all last week was a good week. Unlike this week, as I seem to have picked up a cold. So out goes the gym, and if I keep sneezing this much I may have to cancel my private tuition students too...

Off to have a Lempsip now; not certain they work, but I like the taste anyhow.