Other people's hobbies always seem a trifle mad if you don't share their passion. Why on earth would anybody sit fishing under a wet tarpaulin for hours, and then throw the fish back in? Or build model planes you can't fly in? Or (like me) buy a lot of fabric, cut it into little squares and sew them all back together?
Last week I went to paint with friends at a lovely coastal nature reserve, and I was surprised to find that not only could I not get into the car park, but I ended up leaving the car about a mile up the road, perilously perched on the verge. It was a beautiful day for a walk, though, so that wasn't a problem.
When I arrived at the shore I discovered the reason for all the crowds- LOTS of twitchers! Apparently they were all watching a single 'elegant tern' who should have been in California but was snuggling up to one of our common old British terns with a view to creating a nest full of not-so-elegant babies!
The nature reserve warden said that men (and they were 99 percent men) had come from as far away as Glasgow for that elusive 'tick'.
What an opportunity for a fun painting, though!
We didn't see the elegant tern, but I hope it has a happy time on the British foreshore. It seems a shame to treat it just as a statistic, though, rather than enjoying the beautiful weather and atmosphere of the place.
the whole kitchen is scented with of apricots
For me, drawing is a kind of meditation, and every new drawing is a journey of discovery. This week at the life drawing session I found myself thinking about the sensuality of making marks on textured paper, and the joy of making varied marks in response to what you see, trying to capture movement and gesture.
Drawing on brown or coloured paper means you can show the lights and the darks of the subject.
Sometimes its good to isolate part of a drawing, or turn it upside down. These marks could be a landscape, or something completely abstract,
or part of this lady's ear.
Three minutes of mark-making:
Make this quick drawing of a wonderful dynamic model.
I know its just my preference, but I think one thing that stifles creativity is the dead hand of a neat box of pencils (or any other medium), all arranged in colour order, so you are scared to actually disturb them. Here are my favourite pastels/conte crayons:
The best thing about them is the element of surprise, not knowing until you make a mark if its going to be grey or bright blue or purple, and then letting the rest of the drawing take off from there.
I'm looking forward to making some 'surprising lines' at the next art day at the Birtley estate, drawing and monoprinting in the woods.
