Bones and buttocks

Just looking at images of these forms brings back such strong memories of my making them. Some artists talk about being lost in the moment of making, an altered state of consciousness. I have painted and drawn, and looked at the piece when I was finished wondering if I had actually made it - meaning I have no memory of being there, that I was so lost in the making that I'd forgotten myself. Making these pieces was somehow different - I felt a heightened sense of being there, being totally there and totally consumed by my actions and feelings. This may be getting too arty-farty for some of you. But I am interested in the action of making, the need I feel to make, the itch I have when I'm not making, the sometimes all-consuming sensations while I am making.

These images again are different views of one piece, about 4" tall. These sizes are guesstimates.

Torso

These are all views of one form. As I was making these objects I was handling them in my hands, as opposed to carving them sat at a table. I was aware all the time of how they looked and felt from all angles. They evolved, as I'd form a curve I liked, then move the clay round until another interconnecting shape felt right, that 'worked'.
I've never created something out of nothing before, I always paint or draw, from life, or from other images. But I love these little figures that have come out of my imagination. In fact, while making them it was more like I was making them from memory. This is about 6" tall.

The Venus of Roker

Only this wasn't made in Roker, it was made at my sister's studio in Poynton. It was intended to be a 'Venus' though, in as much as I was playing around with making small forms in clay, loosely based on male and female body parts; bellys, belly-buttons, breasts, bottoms, curves in the lower back, necks and shoulders. This is one of about a dozen I made over three days, roughly 7" tall and, as yet, is unfired.
I'm visiting Melanie again soon, and I hope I'll be able to get them all fired, and think about what finished surface this should have.

Through blogging I have made many friends like Gesa, Vivien, and Chris. Casey Klahn is another person who has mentored me over the last couple of years. He is an award winning artist based in Washington State, USA, and he has honoured my by featuring my sunflowers on one of his blogs, Pastel.
In the mean time I have been getting on with painting the rosehips I gathered on Monday, and re-organising my studio space. It's becoming a place I like to retreat to, and I'm managing to grab what time I can in between all the other demands on my time. For example, last night I did 40 minutes painting straight after the school run, and painted the two top-left rosehips shown here. Then, after cooking tea and dropping my two kids off at Karate practice, I had another 45 minutes to add the bottom-right rosehip, and fix and re-position a book case in the studio. During which I listened to a recording of Mendelssohn's Elijah. Stirring stuff.

a poem by Fernando Pessoa

To be great, be whole: don't exaggerate
Or leave out any part of you.
Be complete in each thing. Put all you are
Into the least of your acts.
So too in each lake, with it's lofty life,
The whole moon shines.

14 February 1933. Translated from the Portuguese by Richard Zenith

Rosehips

We have been scouring the local hedgerows for fruit to put in our hedgerow jam. These hips from Dog-Roses just cried out to be painted. So now my studio has a pile of cuttings in the sink and is crawling with small spiders.

Taming the rose

I decided to see if I could loose the overall scribblyness of my previous paintings yet still keep the rose lively. I love the structure I've managed to capture, but I think this rose lacks umph. Back to the drawing board.

More time in the studio

I'm having a great time finding I can use grey and purple to get deep shadows within the creamy rose petals. The neutral grey-green ground is a fantastic foil for the subtly warm whites. I only bought the roses because sunflowers are at the end of their season, and I was looking for something to paint to continue the flower theme. There are some deep crimson roses yet to come. Unfortunately the florist didn't know the names of either variety, which was a shame.

Ivory white roses

A second outlet has been found for my sunflowers. so that's all seven of them up for sale. A huge thank you to my sister Mel who's been doing lots of running around getting my work accepted and mounted ready for sale.

So today I spent some time clearing space to actually work in my studio, instead of it just being used to store art materials, while I find a place to work elsewhere in the house.
And here are the fruits of the labour that followed; three roses of the pale variety.

Karl de Vroomen

I visited Newcastle Upon Tyne today to see the Newcastle University Master of Visual Arts show at the Hatton Gallery. I have to admit that I was not grabbed by any of the work there, much to my disappointment, with one exception. The exception being Karl de Vroomen. His work was mighty and majestic. Very simple and strong and quite compelling. I especially loved Old Oak. His statement for the show was;

"The imagery for my paintings comes either from personal memory or is chosen in order to articulate a universal concern. On all occasions I am inspired by man's fractious relationship with the natural world. These paintings are borne out of a mixture of anxiety, hope and love of paint."

I hope to visit the Newcastle Gateshead Arts Fair in October, and I'm drawing up an art calender so that I don't miss out on future exhibitions in the North East.