Sharing with The Bury Art Society

I had a fantastic evening with the Bury Art Society last night. They had invited me to do a pastel demonstration three years ago and what with my injured hand and chaotic schedule, not to mention a bit of fear and trepidation, it wasn't until last night that I was actually able to do it. I'm not sure how many people attended, but I would say there were more than 30 and I'm not sure what they expected, but I am quite sure they got something rather different.

I love the way life converges. My job, Eastfeast, has taught me that if one begins from who he or she is and does things in a way that feels right then everyone is much more comfortable. I approached the evening with that in mind and began with Cranberry Island, a little island off the coast of Maine where wonderful artists have inspired me and guided me to see and interpret. I thought that my otherness would be interesting. From the response, it seems it was.

Although hired to give a demo, I again decided to begin where I feel most comfortable, as a facilitator, rather than an expert. My talk headed in that direction, while giving people some of the tools for developing their own process. I was heartened by the enthusiastic way the members of the society experimented with pastels and monotype. Thank you all, and lets hope a few of you discover the blog!

How do I draw?

On Wednesday I will be giving a demonstration for the Bury Art Society. It will be a combination of slideshow, demo and hands on activities for participants. In preparation, I have been trying to consider my own process so that I can say or do something useful. The problem is every time I begin a new drawing, I feel as if I don't know what I'm doing, that I have no process. This week has been about pushing myself in lots of different directions and then just drawing. This is the final result. You can tell that Nancy Delouis is in my head.

Stimulus

Creative pursuits tend not to be the priority with me.  

I bought a bunch of flowers (snap dragons, an african daisy, some freesias- a mixed bouquet) two weeks ago, hoping that they would be the stimulus I needed to get out materials, clear a space and magic the time to draw.  It's been a bit busy and demanding lately.  The flowers drooped, the next weekend came and I conned myself into thinking I would definitely draw a bouquet of bachelor buttons and stocks.  MY COLOURS.   This morning I noticed that they too were looking tired and felt that pang of disappointment that they were slipping away into anonymity too. On the way back from walking Lyra (the dog) I wandered through my vegetable garden.  I have a cutting area this year and the smell of the stocks was a second reminder. Smell the flowers, make time for creative pursuits, draw the poor stocks!

If you've ever been in our house, for some reason there is red feel and when I arranged the still life, looking through the scullery to the study what I saw were the red tiles and the red rug when I had intended a drawing about the stocks.  

Molly at the museum

Molly has had her work selected by a panel of judges to hang in the Young at Art show at the de Young Museum in San Francisco.  Now that school is almost over for summer vacation, I hope Molly will find time to use her ten objects to make some more beautiful art so that I can feature some more of her work on the blog!

Fixing life by drawing

This poem that appeared in Saturday 2nd May Guardian makes me want to find a Chinese bowl and some persimmons to draw. The message is so in keeping with the attitude I have about drawing as a way of fixing something... similar to what my friend Jeni Smith says about keeping a journal. What do you think?

Persimmons

(for Tom)

you must've


loved
those three globes of gorgeous orange


dense and glowing in our winter kitchen


enough


to put coloured-pencil and biro to the


reddest page left in your rainbow sketchbook


and make this drawing of


three persimmons in that Chinese bowl.

the supermarket flagged them up as


this season's sharon fruit


but we prefer persimmon (for


didn't it seem the rose of


their other name


would neither taste or sound as sweet,


would be a fruit of quite


another colour?)

such strange fruit ... we bit and ate,


enjoyed.


before we did you drew them.


- oh you'd say so what ?


(drawing, to you, is as everyday as apples)


but I know


they'd have come and gone like Christmas


if you'd not put them down


and made them worth more than the paper


they're inscibed on - see


those deft strokes of


aquamarine and white that


make our table-top lie flat, the fruits


plump out real and round and 


perfectly persimmon-coloured


upon their lilac shadows in the bowl's deep-


still life


still life, sweetheart,
in what's already eaten and done with.

now, looking, I can taste again.


Liz Lochhead

In terms of drawing I haven't made enough space to do it regularly (again). Last night I was particularly tired but caught a glimpse of these three swans that my mother (rather tongue in cheek) collected for me because I wanted to bring an object back with me from my trip that I took there - to celebrate/commemorate/remind me. Swans are what I observed most, so it seemed to be the obvious reminder.

I include the sketch as an invitation to everyone to send us more examples of what you are creating. It is the sort of thing I would probably tear out of my sketch book so I wouldn't have to look at it any more... but something is better than nothing and who knows where it will lead?

Objects in other settings

Two of my objects traveled with me to West Sussex and Dartmoor last week. I wondered about what I would learn from taking them on holiday. In both of the places we stayed I found an object which seemed to be a companion piece to my blue and gold demitasse. In Sackville house on the windowsill of the smoky dining room was the pitcher above.  I placed my demitasse beside it and was amazed by the repetition of form and colour.

Again at Higher Lettaford (this time in my bedroom), I found a parent(?) Another jug, a guide to the National Park and our precious game of flummoxed created a credible still life.

My other object was the inkwell. Perhaps its presence had a subtle impact too...  Freddie has taken to pen and ink!  And I have some ideas for how to use his images, and the inkwell in the future.

traveling and objects

We have been traveling and Freddie (age 8) has been working in pen and ink to capture life in England. He is visiting from California and his picasa website has wonderful detailed drawings of lego characters.  Now using a quill pen, Freddie has directed his keen observational skills to find the essence of subjects he finds interesting. The addition of watercolour adds another dimension to what he has found on the kitchen table.