Fact or Fiction?

 

I love to draw and paint faces. It’s an act of creation, of bringing a person to life. I rarely paint ‘real’ people though, instead preferring to allow a form of fiction to tell its story through colour and line. Seeing an eye peer at me from the page really does open a window to a soul revealed. I like it when they smirk at me too as if hiding their secrets from the vessel that pulled them from a hidden place and gave them form.

Last week though I took a break from pencils and brushes and my ‘art’ came to me through my fingertips when personalities were created by tapping out their DNA on the keyboard.

When I’m in the fiction flow the characters more often than not create themselves. I sometimes read stuff back and wonder where on earth it came from. These mystical folk seem to tell me who they are and who they are going to be. Their features take shape in my imagination without any help from me. It’s as if they have been waiting in the wings for their cue. They know their lines, their costumes and make up is in place. I just have to give them the signal to step onto the stage.

I love it! It feels great … when it happens … when I let it …

Why then is the dressing room so crowded as the novels I keep starting or dream of writing stay back of mind? Am I scared of failing my characters, of drying up in front of my audience and turning into a gibbering wordless wreck?

Writing these daily prompts are at least helping me to put a spotlight on my stagnation and scare the fear back under the bed where it belongs. I have managed three short stories in the last week. But then, in the last couple of days, stage fright hit again. It is so much easier to write a blog post or a silly poem.

Is ‘fiction’ actually the story I tell myself as to why I can’t get that novel down on paper?

Flame-haired

I am trying to think of something to write about this flame-haired beauty. Maybe commenting on what she's holding in her hands as the beginnings to a story.

However, I am afraid that this evening the words won't come. All I can think about is the newly laundered sheets waiting on the bed next door, the fluffed up pillows and feathery duvet... Sigh, it's Saturday night and only just 11pm and all I want to do is snuggle down and sleep....

I do want to join in Sunday Sketches though... so here she is! I partly borrowed her from a couple of illustrations by the fantasy artist Stephanie Pui-Mun Law from her instructional book 'Dreamscapes'.

OK you win

Blue-eyed girl

It seems that my blog wasn't the only one to miss me. I'm touched.

Right now I am tearing myself away from a newly discovered piano app on the iPad to keep this aspect of my social media life happy. I've just played Greensleeves, Moonlight Sonata and the theme from Angry Birds all without a single lesson - not bad. I can't say I'd even noticed that there was a theme from Angry Birds mind, but who is one to argue.

Needless to say, my eight-year-old son is already mastering the art of keyboard tinkling much better than me - he'll be playing for the Royal Philharmonic by Christmas... I, on the other hand, think I might be getting RSI...

While we are on the subject of music, I shall be unveiling a special YouTube link on Monday - my debut single. Forget about the X-Factor winner... No, the real musical sensation for Christmas is yet to be revealed. Stay tuned readers, stay tuned....

Now, back to the business in hand. No, this girl was not crying because she'd just heard my contribution to popular music (it's not that bad). She's just feeling a bit blue at not being invited to Paint Party Friday. I've tried to explain that it wasn't for lack of invitation that she hasn't attended these past weeks or so, more just that I've not taken her as I've not been there myself. She wasn't really impressed with either explanation. Frankly I can't blame her. It is party season after all and who wants to be left at home alone?

So, I've told her to put her party frock on - we're going out on the town!

An unusual vase

I was doing my homework. Not only is it a bit late - it's not even what was asked... But hey, this is the world of art and nobody really minds (I hope!).

These funky flowers were supposed to be in a vase, but Tahiti here wanted to carry them around with her all day so she stuck them in her hair and weaved a dress from the vines and blooms then danced around singing hippy songs and hugging trees (carefully, so as not to crush the petals).

I'm taking another class... Yeah, what can I say, I am a total art class junkie. This one is the Brave Girls Art School.

She started as a doodle but then I just kept going. The coloured pencils started taking an interest and before I knew it I had a whole sheet of paper covered in bright shades. She pretties up my mood. I like her.

It's nearly Sunday, so I'm going to post for Sunday Sketches.

Feeling bookish

Einstein said that "Reading, after a certain age, diverts the mind too much from its creative pursuits. Any man who reads too much and uses his own brain too little falls into lazy habits of thinking."

It's an easy thing to do. I use reading as procrastination all the time. After all, delving into a book about 'The Art of Possibility' or 'Resonating through visual presentation' is work right? It's education, it's honing my craft... Well, yes, but it's not much use if all you ever do is read and never apply. Or, worse still, if you take what the author says as 'read' and don't mix in your own opinion and experience - your unique point of view.

This piece is part inspired by Modigliani (he of the long face predilection) and Audrey Hepburn (she of the pretty face). Audrey wrote that:

"Living is like tearing through a museum. Not until later do you really start absorbing what you saw, thinking about it, looking it up in a book, and remembering - because you can't take it in all at once."

This lady, who wears Audrey's quote across her chest like a cosy scarf, is wide-eyed in wonder. Her mind fills with creative fuel until she can do nothing else but light the touch paper...

Sharing for The Butterfly Effect's theme of Books.

Hey you...

Hey you...

I happened to be listening to Basement Jaxx while I painted last night which is the only reason this painting got its name. I scribbled the lyrics across her while bopping to the music. Then I remembered I was supposed to watching the Jubilee concert... Doh! Good job, I recorded it. Caught the last half live at least!

This piece a bit different for me, but then again not really a surprise. I was craving a change in direction (even if only temporary), and rose to the challenge on Willowing.ning to paint a quirky face instead of a pretty one. We all benefit from a change in direction every now and again - look at Mary Poppins, she dictated her working life by the wind (with a bit of help from the odd dodgy cockney too).

I was loosened up by the music. I slung my paint with wild abandon (I like me a bit of wild abandon - good for the soul). It was very satisfying to find bits of my painting adventure still adherring to my arms and under my fingernails this morning - always a sign of good session I think.

I finished off this second piece today. See if you can guess what artist I was listening to last night while scribbling in the background!

Girl with dog

Today, though I felt she wasn't quirky enough so we snipped out a little randomness to finish her off. I'm thinking now that maybe she needs a black & white handbag - that's what you get for making her part 'model'. All she can think of is accessories!

We finish up with Mr Quirky Bird. If you want to know the roundabout and mysterious process that went into making him though, you'll have to take my course!

mR qUiRkY bIrD

Trying too hard

I was looking for a quote for this sketch when a beautiful song began playing on my iTunes playlist and Will Young sang these words:

Sometimes you don't find the right lines because you're trying too hard to hear them

I had my quote.

Now Paul Weller is telling me I do something to him, something deep inside... Really Paul? Well, I never knew. I'm flattered...

Can you 'read between the lines' on this piece. There's something written using this page as something to press upon and leaving a message. The only words I can make out are 'please can...' It looks like my writing.

I'm lost for words tonight. Think I'll just post this picture for Sunday Sketches and have done with it.

Up above the streets and houses...

If you're British and of a certain age (that probably means over 35), I defy you not to continue the lyrics in the title and sigh fondly at memories of men in Bungle suits and loud-mouthed puppets with zips for mouths. Ahh... those days of harmless childhood entertainment. Interestingly, if you pop onto YouTube for a trip down Nostalgia Avenue, you might find a few episodes that you don't recall seeing on TV... Watch with caution it may shatter your illusions forever!

Anyway enough nonsensical rambling; I have a global readership to take of who have absolutely no interest in learning that you can buy a George fancy dress costume on eBay for £49.99...

Let's move my writing onto the more serious matter of why there is a lady with rainbow-coloured hair sitting at the top of this post.

Well, this lady up top is Ellie. She had a mix up at the hairdressers when, during a freak storm, a rainbow shot down the drainpipe, entered the salon water system and turned her hair all the colours of ... well the rainbow.

Personally I think it suits her and, as they say, worse things have happened at sea. Not sure what her Mum will say when she gets home though... especially as poor Ellie has now become rainbow obsessed and felt compelled to paint Jessica using the water squeezed from her towel.

Both of these ladies are posted for the Butterfly Effect's rainbow challenge.

I'm in a strange mood this evening. I may have over-dosed on episodes of the Vampire Diaries (and the wine probably doesn't help either). Last night I dreamt mean and nasty Klaus was after me and then I couldn't understand why I dreamt about a boy I went to school with who I haven't seen in over 30 years... until I thought about his surname... Gilbert.... cue spooky Vampire music.... I do love the ridiculous plots though - it's almost on a par with the Apprentice for encouraging pointless shouting at people inside the television screen. I really should watch something more sensible - like Britain's Got Talent.

Anyway, it never being a good idea to write a blog post when slightly inebriated and with a day's work ahead of me come sunrise, I must away to my bed. Perhaps tonight I will dream where the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow might be hidden...

A postcard from Spain

I would have liked to hop on a plane to Malaga then drive up into the Andalucian mountains and buy a real postcard from Ronda, but you know how it is... Real life does have this habit of getting in the way of art sometimes.

Besides, there's plenty of Spain to be had in England's green and pleasant (damp and dreary) land if you put your mind to it. Music is great transportation. I slipped on some flamenco passion and before I knew it I was peering over the shoulder of my character X as she wrote her first message to the equally mysterious Y while sitting in a window alcove of a 17th century hotel in Andalucia.

What was she writing and to whom?

If you missed the beginning of their journey last week then you can revisit their story here and on Darcy's blog where over fifty similar stories began their first chapters last week.

Raw

Sometimes you've just gotta let go... I went all intuitive with this painting, first creating layers of colour and texture with little thought as to end result. Then, because they always call me, a face begged to be let loose from the thick oozing paint, the mess of mixture.

So I got stuck in with fingers and knife and here is the result. Edgy... raw...

She feels like a creature forming from layers of advertising posters and graffiti. Some youth on a skateboard will fly by and reach out to grab her hand, peeling her to life.

For Paint Party Friday... on Thursday... I've got something else to post tomorrow - something new... something fun.... something collaborative... something you should check back and see... then maybe you might wish to join in too...

If you go down in the woods...

My mood is dark. I am surrounded by the gloomiest forest, creepers tangle around my legs and mossy knolls catch my step. I am lost and alone. It is late and the sun is making rapid retreat. It becomes the time of the night when mortals should not tread here. It is when imagination is loose. Fantasy and fairy tale whisper through the dried and creaking boughs. Story is here...

There are so few places in this over-populated country that remain 'untouched'. Where nothing has been dug or built upon, explored and exploited. Unsurprisingly, many believe our ancient woodland is the portal to magic where pixies and elves flit among the bluebells passing by the cast of fairy tales.

I took my imagination to the woods and let her roam past dusk when the secrets are revealed. She met a lady in a red hood whose vein and sinews are formed from the flora and fauna. She carries the wisdom of wolves and the strength of woman... Are you receptive?

***

I painted 'Red' last night - on the cusp of returning to the world of work this morning, she beckoned me into a land of fantasy. It all began quite innocently when I chose to dip my imagination into the woodland for this week's Butterfly Effect challenge. I pondered painting fairies wearing acorn caps or innocent maidens skipping happily towards honeysuckle-strewn cottages and hungry Grandmothers...

But the Muse took me on a darker journey. She fed me spirits and played haunting melodies to intoxicate my senses and lose all sense of direction. She bade me play and experiment, building layer upon layer. Together we created Red.

In the light of day she looks most sinister. What do you think?

Finishing things off

With the days ticking down to 2012 I have finally been feeling the urge to finish all those tasks I started - and if I don't have time between now and midnight on Sunday morning, then I've made a plan that will show me how.

This is most unlike me, but I'm making the most of this sudden urge to file and fathom. I suppose it helps that I can already feel the breath of the tax man making shivers down my spine. Today the postman made his return after the Christmas break. He brought four pieces of mail. Three were advertisements for Sales and the fourth was a brown envelope from HM Revenue & Customs... a timely reminder.... For once though I did not need one. I was actually slaving away at spreadsheets when the clock struck twelve last night - a step ahead of said inspector of taxes. (Interestingly, my son has already clocked these bureaucrats as 'villains' having seen their shenanigans in his school nativity play!).

I have also made a (long) list of the many online courses, worksheets, tools and newsletters that I have never quite got around to either finishing or, dare I say it... in some cases even starting! I am a great one for diving in with whole-hearted enthusiasm, only to find that simultaneously swimming the English Channel while juggling responsibilities, ambitions and dreams can often more than I can handle... I lose track, get behind and then before I know it... I'm starting the next thing!

My word for 2012 should perhaps be completion. I'm not sure yet... A few more days to go before I need to finalise that decision!

This afternoon I submitted my tax info to my accountant. It felt good. Tonight I finally finished this painting. I was less pleased and suspect that maybe... just maybe... I'll have another play another day... In this version Audrey has wandered into a Chinese nightclub just off Gerrard Street (via the night train to Cairo and a trip to Istanbul) and got herself tangled up in the lanterns. Fortunately it's all electric these days or I fear for those lacquered locks!

Something old; something new...

I'm not in the best of moods I can tell you. I mean just look at what I'm drawn on... some piece of old advertising tat... When I knew that my likeness would be immortalised using a brand new box of oil pastels I was terribly excited. I imagined my future hanging in the finest Bond Street gallery and the smartest homes. But no. I get sketched on a catalogue selling friendship bracelets and silly posters.'Keep calm and drink champagne' indeed...I should be so lucky...

Apparently I'm for some art challenge involving old, new, borrowed and blue (or any combination thereof). The lady on the opposite page to me got to be blue... but frankly I think my mood would suffice for that particular category...

Really my dear, I don't know what you're complaining about. You look perfectly divine and judging by the poster stuck to your neck, it sounds like you're off out to have a fun time. I am much more serene myself and prefer a life of quiet contemplation... Although I wouldn't say no to trip to the dentist to do something about the colour of my teeth...

Well readers, looks like my blog was hi-jacked today (or maybe just 'borrowed') by these two ladies for the Inspiration Avenue challenge - old, new, borrowed, blue and Paint Party Friday.

Happy Christmas everyone!



Monique's party

It's past midnight, but the London party is in full swing. Outside, Soho streams with rain that blurs the lights and lanterns of Chinatown and drenches the crowds leaving the theatres with showtunes ringing in their ears.

Monique is giddy with champagne and music cocktails. Her feet throb so she slips off her Jimmy Choos and, swinging them through the air, splashes through the puddles of Leicester Square giggling as she recalls the handsome Frenchman with whom she has been flirting in the elegant Cafe de Paris.

She twirls through the night andthe other revellers smile and soak up her joy. Round and round she goes until the neon blurs until suddenly she stops... Looking back over her shoulder she spies Gilles. He has come looking for her. She takes his hand and then falls into the light of his eyes...

***

A painting inspired by my upcoming Christmas Party at Cafe de Paris! Look very carefully at the background... what do you see?

For Paint Party Friday and Inspiration Avenue's Festive theme.

The photo doesn't really do the colours justice. I might take another again in daylight tomorrow.

Aged Beauty

It's very interesting how these girls just tell me their names. I think that perhaps Dickens' ghost influenced this one. He whispered into my ear a tale of an aged beauty sitting in front of her wedding feast mourning the day that never was, and her young ward Estella.

I'm trying not to listen to this spirit though for I don't really think this is either Miss Havisham in her prime, nor the haughty Estella. She is just girl whose portrait has been somewhat battered by the ravages of time. Indeed it appears that, at some point, it was painted over. Who could have committed such a travesty? A jealous lover? An ignorant painter & decorator? Well, clearly Estelle (a softer version of Pip's friend), was having none of it. Her determination to see the world once again peeled back those layers and here she is!

Estelle

I love the crackle - you might need to click to enlarge to see it. I am contemplating covering her in wax next. What do you think?

Posting for Inspiration Avenue, Art Every Day Month and Sunday Sketches. Big thank you to Tammy who kindly purchased the crackle glaze for me and shipped it across the ocean (because I couldn't find any in Blighty!)

Ladies and ladies

Sybil

Day 7 of Art Every Day Month. A change is in the wind. Here we have a monochrome portrait drawn in a sketchbook rather than a yellowing page from a book.

The coal is running low, the water is barely bubbling.... Is the steam is running out on my 'girl on a book page' series...?

Well, actually yes and no. Sybil here was the result of working alongside Amy and the gang again during a live chat and online class. Unfortunately, she only got this far before my feed dropped and I couldn't log back in again. We were going to add colour and collage and all sorts for the full mixed media ensemble... but I can catch up later when she posts the video.

It was interesting that I lost my connection just as the final episode of Downton Abbey was about to start on TV. I had planned on recording it for later in the week, but felt it was fate decreeing that I should pour myself a glass of wine and watch it 'live'. It was as I was viewing that I realised she looks awfully (or maybe a teensy bit) like Lady Sybil!

Now back to the book page ladies... Three more to show you though I'm not very impressed with any of them. Time to take a break I think. I feel some collage coming on...

Comfort

Sereena - fae of the woodland

Lisa

(She reminds me of my buddy Priti Lisa - check out the pic of her dressed as Frida, although she doesn't have the white make up with animal markings!! It's on her sidebar just above the followers box -  It's her birthday today too. Happy Birthday Lisa!)

Beneath the mask

We all wear masks every now and again, indeed I have a metaphorical draw full, ready to pull on should the occasion demand it. Most are cool and collected and one even has C O N F I D E N T scrawled across the forehead in brave and bold lettering. They come in very useful - though some are a little more transparent than I would like.

This lady merely wanted to hide her true identity to practise a little discreet flirting with her lover. But let's face it, that hair was always going to be a giveaway and she's wearing a dahlia from the bouquet he gave her this morning...

Still, he'll pretend to be surprised as she lowers the mask and flutters those expensive false eyelashes at him.

I'm joining the Masquerade Ball for Inspiration Avenue then running quickly over to Paint Party Friday... so many invitations... so little time...

This piece took hours this week. Layer after layer of prismacolour pencil kept me amused and relaxed every evening. It was a total pleasure.

Progress (and more philosophy!)

Not much time for sketching this week. Well, plenty of sketching out written ideas for clients, but little of the pencil variety. Instead I share with you some progress made on the wonky-eyed wench I submitted for Sunday Sketches last week.

Well, as you can see, she's no longer a sketch! She's levelled herself off a bit now too - although she teetered a bit this way and that before she settled (probably the wine)... She also kept up the philosophy chit chat which was an unusual experience. I mean, I'm used to my paintings talking to me - mostly moaning that the paintbrush is tickling them or that their clothes don't quite fit; but spouting Descartes' "I think; therefore I am" and discussing the geometrical proportions of the composition was truly something new!

While she was thinking, the wench also decided she's still far from done and still requires a certain je ne sais quoi (she's clearly been spending too much time reading French philosophers and needs to get out more!).

And so we will continue on her journey and apparent education. The aim of the exercise is to get her to turn up the other half her lip in a smile of satisfaction... We'll see!

I'm sharing with the Sunday Sketches again so see what they think of her 'improvements'.

How a wonky eye got me all philosophical

Last night in the half light while watching TV, I quite liked the direction this sketch was going.

This morning however, I see wonky, mis-shapen and out-of-proportion eyes and lips, narrow sloping shoulders (her dress will fall off if she's not careful!) and she's too mournful looking. I'm not happy either! Time for the eraser!

I'm fine about starting again at this stage. It's only the preliminary sketch after all. It's when you've put the hours of effort in that makes it all the harder. I have a 'finished' painting I've had on my wall for months that I've only just noticed has out of sync features. I'm a little scared to cover up those soulful eyes... but now I see the problem I know I have to.

It's a metaphor for life of course too. Admitting to ourselves that we've taken a wrong path and despite all we've given that course, being brave enough to start afresh down a new one (or maybe just going back past that bend in the road and putting in some serious repair that goes well below surface dressing!).

What's interesting though is what we find on the other path. My marriage disintegration took me on a new romantic path (he's sleeping softly in the room next door. If I knew it wouldn't wake him, I'd nip in their and snuggle up....). When I was made redundant from a job I loved I chose to take a step along the road of self-employment and I haven't looked back.

I'm ready to start again on this sketch and have the faith that the painting I once loved is just waiting for me to take her on the next step to maturity - even now she's telling me that if I don't do it, she knows a plastic surgeon who will...

Posting for Sunday Sketches. Pop along to Blue Chair Diary and see what everyone else's pencils are teaching them!

Sunkissed

It's funny the way the Muse pulls you sometimes. I had in mind a sunkissed maiden, but a visit to an exhibition by Chris Prout and my Mum suggesting I try more landscapes, had me thinking of playing with the sun-dappled hills of Tuscany landscape for IA's 'sunkissed' challenge this week. I searched through photographs and paintings looking for inspiration. I even made a few sketches, but nothing spoke to me. Yet I persisted. I really wanted to paint something soaked in sunshine.

In desperation, I picked up an older unfinished painting and began to introduce light - but she wasn't having any of it and became Amy Winehouse instead (you can see her at Friday's post). I splodged papers with bright colours and let them dry. Layered up some more. "A flower!" thought I. So I painted one atop of my sunshine shades in a thick, rich red, but it seemed most uncomfortable on the page so I splatted the lush colour onto a sketchbook page and resurveyed the remnants...

I slept on it... I painted a white wash over the top... then washed it off... Eventually I thought I'd just sketch a face over the top in charcoal for Sunday Sketches. Then, finally, this sun-kissed Asian Princess emerged. But she wasn't going to be happy just being a humble charcoal sketch. She wanted jewels and light, texture, fabric and richness. She asked and so she received...

Then I had to write about her. Normally the words just flow, but once again I was struggling with where to begin. Words flowed through the keyboard OK, but they just didn't reflect her creation. Then, when it was way past bedtime and the computer was asleep, I turned at last to good old paper and pen to make the magic flow.

Strange how so much effort went into one piece. I knew it (or indeed 'she') was in there. I just didn't pay attention to intuition. 'She' was calling me all week. I should have listened!