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.

New Studio, New Canvas

I've started a new canvas, A3 size, using two of my nude torso photos. I've reversed the one on the right, and it's the one I've painted before, so now I'll be looking at it in reverse so can see it with a new eye.

I'm happy with it so far, though I want to deepen the blues, and work on the shapes of the mid-tones. This is the first piece of work that I've done in stages, stopping after an hour or so to come back to at a later time.

And already I want to do a series of these, on a wider horizontal canvas, and on a tall canvas, and maybe stretching the images, or skewing them. Maybe adding a lot of foreshortening. It's like the images I can see in my head already exist, and I just need to bring them into existance in this present time. Definately, the last canvas I painted already has a life of it's own when I look at. Like it's a separate thing, not just something I've painted. I hope this makes sense, because it does to me. At least, not yet! But it will.