Studio Notes no. 221

Playful process & stories

Hello Everyone

We are still experiencing very warm and dry weather here. I am thinking of all the many people evacuating homes due to wild fires, in Europe, at home and elsewhere. I hope you are safe and well.

As my energy level continues to gently improve, with a few blips along the way, I have felt the need to be more playful. One thing I do every so often is simply sit and paint on sheets of paper - exploring texture, pattern and layering. These papers are used for collage, sketchbooks - even wallpaper in a dolls house. I’ll share more about these papers -

but first, here is a painting I completed recently and how it came together.

And so, as I so often do - I began with a figure. At this stage she might be stumbling through snow!

I am working with loose layers of gouache. I will not touch the figure very much at all now, because I like what I have and tinkering with that does not progress the painting.

My idea is to paint a moment in late summer, with autumn in mind. I am looking forward to autumn, my favourite season. As soon as I can, feel I want to, I start painting toward the mellow days…. Hoping, indeed, we do get mellow days. A cat has arrived to have a conversation with the young woman of the house and garden.

Sunflowers, looking still quite fresh and strong, are thriving in the front garden. Many layers and questions go into a painting like this. These photos are just showing you a fraction of the changes/decisions/layers. A painting quickly takes on its own life and I have to follow where it wants to lead me…

‘Sunflower Days’ - the completed painting - gouache on watercolour paper.

Shop News

I will be adding a selection of new work to my shop this coming Wednesday - let me see if I can get the date right for a change!

Wednesday 29th July - 7pm UK time with preview from 4pm

This week I hope to have new paintings on paper and tiny paintings - perhaps also a few french knots brooches! We shall see - I am still working at a gentler pace.

A link to my shop is at the end of these notes

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Playful Paper

Feeling dotty - layering. I am working with gouache and acrylics, mixing together in places.

Stripes and layers

Building up layers. I am print off, I allow to dry and paint a further layer. What I am aiming toward is an ‘ancient’ layered effect - a weathered wall, a patina, a faded painting upon another, something that might later spark an idea. I will come back to some of the painted paper and add more layers. I usually work at these for about an hour and then stop, to come back again.

Here is a collage I made recently, using other papers from my box of painted scraps and sheets. I cut and play, moving things around. I have also used painted fabric in this work. I’ll write about painting on fabric in another post.

My plan is to work on a series of abstract collages throughout August. Giving time to my ‘abstract self’ is feeling more important to me now. Maybe recent illness has made me realise how I want to do a variety of things, explore alternate paths.

I’ve decided I will share this series here in my notes, but also via my ‘alternate’ Instagram: phaedraspoon - I’ll be offering some of the collages for sale.

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New Stories

Here are three recent stories. They are inspired by my day-to-day creative life but as always ask that you read them as small fictions. And thank you for your kind encouragement.

Other People’s Ailments Are Rather Boring

I am not feeling well, which is very boring. I sit with my head back, a neglected toy. My hands cannot be bothered to fidget. The knitting next to me mutters like a tangled joke. How did I get to this place? Still waiting for the punch-line.

The fan drowns out the voices on the radio. I fall into an uneasy nap. All my dreams are like pale newsprint. This is what being empty does: fills your imagination with wet paper and badly-drawn old loves.

When I wake, I am heavy and numb. I might walk about but I know my legs are elsewhere. They are sturdily making their way up the green hill far away without a city wall, wherever that might be. Just legs, doing their adventuring without the rest of me to slow them down.

I’ll get better if I take the pills that are likely to make me feel worse. Of course. And then the doctor calls me and says: more pills for you!

Where am I? I ask for my legs to take me somewhere. Not yet, they say. We’re on our holidays, we’ll send you a postcard!

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Ancient Smells

There is a smell like fly killer spray wafting through the flat. It reminds me of when I was a child. When - not finding fly spray - I filled a room with furniture polish to try and rid of a fly. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I just got the room into a terrible mess. Which of course I had to clean.

And now this smell which is not furniture polish but does remind me of fly spray, and is the deodorant I purchased for my son. He is mindful to apply it to himself before leaving for work during the summer. It is supposed to smell of cedar, spices.

How is it possible for something to smell so wrong? Do I simply replace the can with another? No, of course that would be pandering to my odd smell-memory. I say goodbye to my son as he leaves to attend his volunteer job. He is geared up, ready to face the world. Here I am thinking of fly spray.

For the rest of the day flies come into the attic, more than ever. They low-fly over me as I try to paint. I bat them away with a feeble hand, or a thin brush.

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Shape of a Woodland

It has been too long and I must remember the shape of a woodland. I shake the shapes in my mind and let them settle. Like a snowglobe, but dry. Instead of glitter: glittery insects.

Ouch, ouch, say the small creatures and laugh as they settle down into their summery dreams.

How can I find my way through the brittle trees and feel the moss again? You know what trees do, I tell myself: they point to the sky in different directions. Years ago, I remember finding the woodland and realising I was no longer going to be lonely. I had found a way back to myself.

That was better than an iron key on a ribbon, hanging like a necklace around my neck.

All I can do is walk through the various shades of green.

Pedagogical greens, dried up yet ready. Just water and a brush, not even that. A damp finger. How easy it is to paint a tree canopy, if you really want to? Blue, olive, reddish something and then green. And then green again.

And then don’t forget the supporting act: a swoop of birds.

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Thank you for reading here and for your kind support. If you enjoyed please ‘like’ and share - and do leave a comment. I look forward to sharing more with you soon.

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