I guess we all go through phases of unmotivation or uninspiration. Well. Ok, I’ll speak for myself. Sometimes everything looks a bit grey or ‘done that before’. A tiresome phase.
But that’s when a bit of colouring-in helps keep the habit up. At least the hand is moving, the eyes are looking, searching.
Not sure when I did this ink drawing, but it now has colour. This very hardy plant is still out there on my balcony – taller, more shoots, very healthy. Just keeps growing. Don’t think it questions anything. It just is.
While this piece was not inspired by Johannes Vermeer, his works did cross my mind as I struggled with what to do with the background. His interiors are wonderful for the way they are integrated with any people. They just belong there. Not plonked there. There is a story that can be created. Light streams from his windows.
Here, Chloe is talking to a bird – one I bought from an art gallery bookshelf – and wanting to make sure it was comfortable. It had fallen off its perch and had been hanging upside down for some time, gathering dust.
Catching children engrossed in an imaginary world is a real joy.
A thing I have learnt from swimming every morning for the last ten years or so, is pushing through that feeling of ‘I don’t feel like it.’ This happens especially on cold and windy days. The reverse is now the case. If I don’t go for a swim, my body ‘complains’ and says ‘see I told you so, you should have gone. You’d be feeling much more refreshed.’
Nothing more annoying than a wingeing inner voice. To avoid that, I swim.
Drawing can be like that some mornings. Some days when I feel rather uninspired with drawing, I do something like this. Grab a pen, book and draw something in front of me. More often than not, a focus takes over and very soon a drawing of sorts appears. I think it helps to just keep the excuses at bay by using whatever is on hand.
The wonky vessel on the right, by the way, is a light fitting I found in an op shop for $4. I suspected there was a missing ceiling attachment thing but thought in a worse case scenario, it will work as a ‘vase’. And it does. Well…it doesn’t leak.
Have you ever visited Murwillumbah? No? It’s a small town in the far north of New South Wales – gorgeously lush and with the Tweed River flowing through it.
When you stay with friends and they are busy in the morning doing this and that, it is a great time to sit and admire and remember the view with a sketch. This is from their back porch.
This is what I wanted to remember:
– The size of the magnolias remind me of the warmth and generosity of heart I felt through the conversations with various people I met over the weekend.
– The wire gate, fence, timber parts gathered from here and there reused creatively to make spaces for guinea pigs and chickens.
– And out there, in the wider landscape there are cane fields and mountain backdrops.
Thank you Leah, Neroli, Ena, Reuben and all your delightful friends.
This cheongsam came to my mother from her mother-in-law, my paternal grandmother. I love the tree-like motifs, gourd and flower motifs – kind of like a Chinese garden. Makes sense to me.
One of the motifs, a gourd, is an auspicous motif to mean fertility and prosperity. I am being very shorthand with that description but you will find a much more eloquent and elaborate explanation at Gourds in ancient China. I am guessing that one of the flower motifs includes the peony, as prosperity and wealth would be a must in Chinese culture.
This kind of embedded meaning in fabric can be an effective way of handing down bits of a culture from one generation to another or one culture to another.
‘The Greats’, Masterpieces from the galleries of Scotland exhibition at the Art Gallery of NSW was a feast for the eyes. The works span from early Rennaissance to Impressionism. As with many exhibitions of this kind, there are many pieces that become ‘familiar’ through books and the internet. But it is always amazing to see the difference in the real form. I am usually surprised by:
- its scale – it is either bigger or smaller than I thought
- its detail – the brush marks and layering which is not always evident in reproductions
- its colour – it is either brighter or duller than I imagine
- its simplicity or complexity technically – it always seems the reverse of what I would have thought.
Some of the pieces are so rich in what they show. Like a landscape, there is so much to take in, it can be a bit hard to know where to start in appreciating it.
As I was not able to stay more than hour or so, I decided to take iphone shots of the ones I liked – one in its entirety and another for a tiny detail that caught my attention.
And what you see here is an exercise in appreciation.
The dab of colour in the thumbnail sketch (left) is the detail I’ve had fun doing (right). It’s a treat to ‘unpack’ a fraction of what each artist was doing. Though, to be honest I was not quite sure how to ‘do’ Seurat’s technique. It seems a bit compex to me but very interesting nonetheless.
- Johannes Vermeer, The house of Martha and Mary (1664-5)
- John Singer Sargent, Lady Agnew of Lucknow (1892)
- Paul Cezanne, The big trees (1902-4)
- Georges Seurat, La Luzerne, St Denis (1885)
Can’t get enough of this fiddle leaf plant! It’s all the positive and negative spaces and shapes that I love. Turn is slightly and you get another configuration to draw.
It is a lovely feel in the air at present – warm breezes, quieter roads and relaxed routines – holiday season has begun. Love it.
Still making more little stationary sets. Not perfect nor extravagant as gifts. Just handmade.
In looking for ideas I am going through sketchbooks. But I find that it is somehow easier to make designs up by looking out onto the balcony for ideas. Do you find that too – that observation gives so much more variety or scope for inspiration?
What to draw is one exercise. The other is choosing which colours to use. As I am enjoying the convenience of this kids palette with its range of 36 sorbet-like colours, working out colour combinations is another exercise.
All good fun.
Not much blogging, but still drawing – little drawings to make a few simple stationary sets as little gifts.
When rummaging around for ideas, I’m going through sketchbooks – quite a few by now.
It’s kind of a way of reviewing what I have been doing. Needless to say, there are a lot of balcony plant sketches. Some plants have since drooped, gone and new ones added – an inadvertant record of balcony life!
Mum accidentally knocked this flower off its stem (leaf?) and put it into a small jar feeling rather apologetic that it had not yet bloomed.
Coming into the hallway after returning from a dinner, she noticed a strong yet delicate fragrance. Queen of the Night had opened up and beautifully. But, not for long. The next morning, it had returned to its closed and restive state.
Short-lived but worth appreciating.