Potato Eater

I was in Amsterdam when I made this picture. More specifically I was in the Van Gogh museum.

If the owners of dogs subconsciously pick animals that they themselves resemble, do people who look like they belong in a painting subconsciously gravitate to art galleries ?

So I'm sitting here............

sort of sniveling and coughing, in that involuntary "this is ridiculous, I can't stop myself spluttering like a twat" way, when I happen across this image from way back in June.

A nice warm glow ensued.

Herself and the kids are still huddling together in the kitchen, and the large red 'unclean' cross which has been painted on the Lounge door, is still dripping blood like onto the hall carpet, but I don't care 'cos I have my pictures to keep me warm.

Monday already

So, the main event since the studio became officially open, has been my newly developed technique of painting while sneezing/squinting/coughing. Interestingly enough, snot appears to slow down the drying of certain pigments..........I don't think it will catch on, but it has opened up a whole new world green hues...................

The image is a work in progress. It's a big seascape, inspired by the winds and storms of the last couple of weeks.

If you are round and about, come in and have a coffee; the C21 shop, 38 High Street Mundesley. That's MUNDESLEY Sally in Norfolk ! x

Back with more soon.

Grand opening

The headache has cleared !

Thanks to all who came and supported the bash on Saturday evening, especially if you volunteered to be "portraitised"(or whatever the term is).

A couple of people came along who had read about the opening on here.........so Blog power is yet again demonstrated. Thanks to you for showing up.

On another subject entirely I have been tagged by swearing mother.

SO

Eight things I am passionate about;

Herself and the evil ones.

Friends and Family

My work

Sex

Art in general

Music and Gin. (that counts as one)


Eight things I want to do before I die;

Paint full-time, all the time

Go back to Paris

Go back to Amsterdam

Make enough money to get the kids set up for life.

Paint a portrait of Michael Cain or Rolf Harris.

Be comfortable with the concept of being a selfish artist

Be chased up the stairs by a nymphomaniac

Own a VW Camper


Eight things I say often;

That's bollocks

Fuck right off

Who's moved my keys/hat/phone etc.

I'm not being funny, BUT.........

Of course I can paint it again in colours that match your sofa.....

I'm on my way

Oh yes, painting is SO relaxing

I didn't want to anyway


Eight books I have read recently or are still reading;

Berlin, Anthony Beevor

Trusted Mole, Milos Stankovic

Degas, by himself

Billy Bragg, The Progressive Patriot

Flags of Our Fathers, James Bradley

Robert Louis Stevenson, Treasure Island

Robert Graves, Goodbye to All That

Sebastian Faulks, The Fatal Englishman


Eight Songs I could listen to over and over;

Paul Weller, Sunflower

U2, Beautiful Day

The Frattelis, Chelsea Dagger

The Jam, That's Entertainment

Martha and the Vandellas, Heat Wave

Stevie Wonder, Very Superstitious

Basement Jaxx, Where's Your Head At

The Cure, Lovecats


How thrilling !!!...........never been tagged before !

threeeedeeee

Trying my hand at something new. For the last few weeks I have been attending a ceramics evening class. The guy teaching it is a real gem, and hugely knowledgeable.
It is becoming apparent that I must be careful not to become obsessed. This three dimensional stuff could really get under the skin.

This piece has taken about four hours so far, and I'm hoping she'll end up a bit more attractive, but retain the strength. I don't want her to be too prissy and delicate.

I'll update with more pictures as she progresses.

Naked bravery

One of my best mates stepped in, at short notice, to model for the life drawing class last night.

I don't think the sound of a howling gale, and rain lashing against the windows, was helping her mental fortitude in the chilly village hall in which we hold the class.

I think this piece shows how she was feeling !

Time travel

A rare enforced admin day today due to the cold, wild, wet weather, and the laptop making scary wounded animal noises, 'cos of the 6 gigs of image files blocking it's electric string.

Picture the scene; me, tea, a pile of blank CDr's, a veritable sea of joy. At some point, in that trance like state that repetitive tasks induce, I found myself mentally transported back through the year.

All sorts of moments passed across the screen, dragged and dropped in groups of twenty, thirty, forty. Work, play.......other peoples work and play.......Friends and family, now taller or with different hair. Beaches and waves long since changed and dissipated. Three weddings, no funerals. Randomly or thoughtfully harvested incidents. Ghosts made as permanent as digital facsimile will allow. A visual tally of the ordinary and unusual bits of 2007, for me and mine.

I found at least fifty semi-forgotten images that could, and maybe should, make guest appearances here. This one is from Southwold, a lovely Suffolk town I maligned in a fit of pique for it's lack of a proper fish and chip shop.

I like the picture for the obvious fact of it's redundancy. The man kept walking, the moment passed.
I remember standing in the August sunshine, looking through the viewfinder at the buildings, thinking that I needed someone to walk through the frame.
With the slightly reverse deja-vu feeling that occasionally creeps up on me when I'm working, I knew someone would.
He appeared, I shot two frames, this is the second. My timing was a bit off

Naked Saturdays........

Blatant plug, but those of you within drivable distance of here, are welcome to come and have a mosie round the new gaff on the 17th.

I'm also going to be doing some ten minute pastel portraits which you can take away with you.

Sorry if you live miles away (like Australia), you are still welcome, but I don't expect to see many of you.

If you are coming, please be aware that the title of this post is a joke.

Feet and hands

Sometimes the challenge of drawing feet and hands seems way too hard. You look and look but the eye can't make sense of how things work.....which bit goes where?.....is that a toe?......how does that look like that.
Bits of this were a struggle, but I particularly like the hand.


And the arm.


Oh, and the bum.

Ebb and Flow

I don't presume to think I am in control of my destiny, but some days self delusion is easier to swallow than others.

Over the last few weeks a series of unconnected events have contrived to make life a bit too interesting.

It has become all too evident that despite adhering to the 'Six P' principle, (Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance), the random nature of the world we live in can and will cause the occasional unexpected bump in the road.

Now, I know this all sounds obtuse and a bit self-absorbed, not to mention vague and lacking in detail, but this stuff mostly involves my nearest and dearest, or cock ups of my own accidental design. Either way vague it shall remain.

Thinking of how to sort out some of this stuff, while strolling along the beach, I stumbled upon this old plastic drum stuck in the beach.
It had obviously come adrift from a set of crab gear out to sea, and ended up half full of sand, held captive at the edge of the ocean.
No longer fulfilling it's purpose, unable to drift on or sink away from sight.
A simple sad thing, under a wide blue sky.