The Forest Floor

If you took out the past its best food from my fridge, all that would be left is parsley and soya milk. This is one of the things I feel most guilty about; the throwing away of food that I didn't get around to eating before it went bad. I'm not sure if it's as bad as giving in to the nagging voice that says "you better eat those brownies/that homemade bread/that stew, as you don't want to waste it". At least with the former you stay the right side of healthily curvaceous. And there is always Lea and Perrins. That never goes out of date. There could be a nuclear holocaust and Lea and Perrins would be the only thing to survive. Lea and Perrins and cockroaches.

These are new paintings completed this week. The top image is the slightly smaller sketch for the one underneath. The technique is called negative painting by most people. You paint around the shapes rather than painting the shapes themselves, and then build up layers. There is always a stage when you think "this is all going wrong" and the it suddenly comes together. I use it quite a lot in my work.

Autumn landscapes

So, I have still been painting quite a bit. These are quite different from my flower paintings, which are very bright. I just sat down one listless Sunday afternoon and had a doodle. I've ended up teaching these techniques in class, I think people have quite enjoyed it. The trick is to apply the paint in very thin washes, let it dry a bit and then brush the shapes out with a very wet brush. The painting is built up this way over a few days as you need to let each wash dry thoroughly in between layers. I've spent a very happy and contented fortnight painting these and listening to music.

In other news, I have finished my short story but didn't throw my two main characters off a cliff. I left them bickering in a National Trust car park. I think we've all been there.

Unravelling

Things have been in such a mess here over the last 6 months. Not a bad mess, but a fairly typical busy/glorious sort of mess. Life has felt like a ball of tangled wool and the act of unravelling and bearing witness to each little strand (which is what this blog is really- an act of bearing witness) has been nigh on impossible. But I want to be here and it feels good to be back here at 11pm on a Sunday night the week stretching out before me.

In which the artist realises she may have bitten off more than she can chew.

I have been doodling in my sketchbook. Woods (business as usual). There's something so magical about them and they work so well as subject matter in printmaking. I don't want this to be a regular dry point print. I have plans for a bit of collage and some watercolour washes. This time I am using a proper zinc plate rather than plexi glass so the line should be that bit sharper. The doodle itself took about 5 days on and off, drawing in the evenings. On the zinc plate I managed a 2 inch square in about 3 hours. The tip of my index finger on my right hand is numb. I thought I had some terrible degenerative disease of the nervous system for about a week and then realised it's from where I have been clutching the engraving needle.

The Mill's annual artweeks exhibition is going up in 2 weeks time and I have spent so much time coordinating everyone else that I kind of forgot that I'm an artist too and also exhibiting. I have decided that I am going to carry on doodling and playing and if I have something to show at the end of it then great. If not, never mind.

Printmaking

A weekend spent mono printing and labouring over my woodcut. Shoulders ache. Wood chippings everywhere. If it doesn't work I'm going to be really cross. The pencil is there to give you a sense of scale.

We're mono printing in class on Wednesday and I've decided that, as a primary source of inspiration, we are going to use birds as our imagery. Specifically, black, carrion birds. They just look so cool.

Is it finished?

I have no idea what's going on with the bonkers use of colour in this painting. I just stopped thinking halfway through and doodled away. The question is, is it finished?

Looking at it now, I think not, though what more I can do is beyond me. A lovely pile of Japanese plywood landed on my doorstep on Wednesday ready for some woodcuts. I spent last night meticulously drawing out the scene I wanted ready to work on this weekend. As is usual for someone with so little patience, I couldn't wait to get started but couldn't bothered to move from my comfy spot on the bed. Consequently I slept, rather uncomfortably, with wood chippings.