The week that was

Here is some evidence of the things I have been up to:

I delivered this ( one of 5) to The Art Sale, to be held 5-6 September in Hamilton

Bought myself these and they make me happy

Took him to A&E because he has sprained a finger and knee. We thought they might be broken. Shew!Hobbit feet!

Started this.....

...and it turned into this.

I liked the start so much, I started this....

..and left it here.

This was a demo of a quick start for Eve.

Bad photo, but this is where it is at now.

I am listening to the new Broods album, Evergreen, and Angus and Julia Stone's latest album. Clearly it's a brother-and-sister band week.  Funny how stuff like that happens, sometimes.

Holiday in my head

I have always had a very vivid imagination. My brain likes to hold images and my hand likes to manipulate them into paintings that show me how I feel.The words come after.

 I saw a quote by Edward Hopper that said " If I could say it in words there would be no need to paint it". Sometimes the painting helps me articulate the issue.

This blurry painting is , on the surface, of  a poor rural settlement alongside a railway line. Quite depressing and without any discernible features. A miss mash of shacks, makeshift homes, power lines and not much else.  We saw hundreds of similar locations on our road trip from Cape Town to Johannesburg and back. From the comfort of the front seat of a luxury car, these vistas seemed surreal. I photographed them , adding yet another layer of distance between myself and the grim reality . Layer upon  layer of glass. I found it difficult to look without that filter .

What this painting represents is my reluctance to focus closely on the grimness and reality of that existence. I don't want to see that by sheer luck of circumstance, I was born into the privilege of being privileged. I am educated, solvent, healthy, employed, capable of getting myself out of any hole I have dug, I have skills and I don't have to live there. Poverty is bleak.

So I paint it...all blurred shape , colour and line....the only way I can make sense of it. I am not sure what will become of this painting, but I will paint more and maybe they will one day help. I have a whole holiday of images in my head  to make sense of.A lifetimes work.

oil on canvas
70cm w x 50cm h

Things a fish told me

Ever watched the film" Finding Nemo"?  You should. Dory ( the stupidly smart blue fish ) suggests "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming" as a solution to one of Nemo's existential problems ( you know, the ones that go " Who and I? where am I going? How am I going to get there? How am I going to find my way? "). And I agree. Sometimes, just keep swimming, or in my case, just keep painting ,is the only way to make any kind of progress or find any kind of answer to whatever question I am supposed to be asking. In the doing, the solution is found.

Just keep doing. Whatever it is that you do, do it. And if you don't know what it is you are supposed to be doing, just do anything. Start somewhere. Try writing, or crafting or gardening or swimming or teaching or singing...whatever, just keep doing. And if you write, craft etc and are stuck, just do it some more or a little differently.

Now where was I?

Ah, yes. This week I have been getting back into painting. I am not sure how to distill all my ideas onto canvas, but sometimes I just have to make a start and see where I go. Mistakes are made but I love fixing them and I also loves the discoveries made whilst mistaking. Also, sometimes mistakes are just that. Cock-ups made, acknowledged and then set aside as I tackle the next thing.Just keep swimming.

Which one is the cock-up, I hear you ask. Ha! Never telling!

A selection of the starts, the In-progress, the complete and the details, in no particular order.

BTW, the other great fish movie was " A Fish called Wanda" . Also highly recommended.

Dio ArtX

I am exhibiting at the Dio ArtX this weekend, friday and saturday, 10 am till 4 pm.

There is a lot of work by local artists and of a very high standard( I know, I've seen it!) and I attended the opening tonight. Red dots were flying up and I am pleased to have sold 2 pieces already, including the one above. The venue is the Diosecan school, Hamilton,  and it is a gold coin donation entrance to see some fine work of a great variety.

Neither here no there.

Physically, I am home.
Mentally, I am still in the grips of travel. I like to think of travel as a state of mind. That place where you are permanently unsettled, uncomfortable and unroutined. Things change constantly and you find yourself playing catch-up on situations long after they have passed( What did that signpost say? Did I really just see that in the back of a passing car? What on earth was he selling?....you get the drift).
Like getting off a boat and still feeling the water moving under your feet hours later, travel leaves you with senses zinging, confused and exhilarated, exhausted.

But home I am.
First thing I did was walk into my studio and close the door behind me. I deliberately left it clean and tidy with my latest work on display. I knew I would be fragile on my return so I created a warm welcome. I arranged the paintings to all face me as I entered, like an audience to a stage. It was fabulous. I drew deep breaths, longing for some stinky turpentine whiff, but smelling only oily paint. The studio air -temperature was bone-chillingly frigid, but the glow of all those paintings left me in no doubt that I was home and ready to stay for a while.

Now I am waiting for the fog of jet-lag to leave me and am preparing for a serious few months in the studio. I have a so many projects I am working on, so much to do and say.

I was totally inspired by my travels and physically, I sometimes itched to paint.I resisted any half-arses attempts whilst away because painting requires great thought and planning and I have used the last month to do exactly that. Sitting still, observing and writing it all down have kept me focussed and allowed me to develop some ideas.

I visited galleries whenever I could. I wanted to view some Pierneef's and was rewarded by visiting the Rupert Museum in Stellenbosch and seeing 32! Jackpot! I bought a beautiful book on the work of Frederike Stokhuyzen, an artists that I was hitherto oblivious to and am who now has me as an ardent fan. I went to The South African National gallery and various contemporary galleries in Cape Town. I marvelled at everything because it was all marvellous.

I am predominantly a landscape painter and South Africa did her best to provide me with some outstanding vistas. I look forward to offering up my interpretations in the following months but will leave you with a couple of photos.

I feel so blessed and grateful to have had the opportunity to travel, see family, old friends and see the glorious landscape as we travelled 5000km across the country from Cape Town to the Kruger National Park and back. Safely and with great company.

Now if I could only just stop yawning.......

I made the local press

I was lucky enough to receive a lovely write up by the local Cambridge newspaper about my work at The Garden Art Studio. The work there is a mix of my plein air landscape from last year and some of my newer works. Click below to read about me( on page 23.)



Welcome to Cambridge Edition - E-Edition



At the moment I am painting daily before I take a months hiatus to travel with my family. I am not sure if I will have the time , but if I do, the  landscapes will be quite different.



But you all know the landscapes are just a metaphor for my state of mind, don't you?!

Sailor talk and Ngurunui beach.

I usually paint outdoors (really quiet and peaceful, birdsong, insect  noise, rustle of grass, the odd cow noise, maybe a distant tractor or two.) or in my studio( peaceful but with music of my choice and indoor plumbing). It's nice. I get into the zone, really focus on what I am doing or sometimes get REALLY into the zone and paint in a meditative state, only really coming- to when the painting is done. That is real bliss.

Saturday afternoon saw me with time on my hands. Kids were post sport and occupied and Charles wanted to change the tyre on his motorbike. His man cave is right next to my studio. Nice, I thought. We get to hang out in proximity but each do our own thing. Cool. Living the dream.

Um, no.

I should have known. My even-tempered saint of a husband manages to cope with a hectic job, an artist wife and two semi-feral kids with great grace, but mechanical issues are another story.

The huffs and puffs started about 20 minutes into the operation.Spanner throwing came soon after and sailor talk and shouting then lasted a good 40 minutes. It was hectic. I offered to help (I know, I know, but it's the thought that counts) and was asked to leave. "I have to do this myself. If I get stuck out in the woo-wops and have to change a tyre, no-one is going to be there to help me so I HAVE to do this myself".(cue more throwing of spanners at offending tyre. They bounced back and hit him in the shin. Insult leading to injury. I ran before I laughed). I now know that if he does get a flat tyre in the Australian outback he will die. If he is anywhere in New Zealand, he might still survive(because farmers love to help) .

I  went to check that his life insurance was up to date.


So, not really not an atmosphere conducive to painting, but I soldiered on, music full blast ( I need headphones!) and eventually I painted a totally acceptable piece that I like.

Ngurunui beach, Raglan, New Zealand
Oil on canvas
50 x 75 cm

The tyre is now on the wheel. It is the thing of which we do not speak. I think he is still trying to straighten out his back.Post Tyre Traumatic Stress Syndrome.

PS. The sands on the west coast of New Zealand are often  black due to the volcanic action the islands have seen and still experience. We are not called Shaky Isles for nothing!