photo: recent sketchbook pages. You may see the right page has an abstract collage. I love to make these. They are the kind of work I made years and years ago when I first thought of being an ‘artist’. Now, I tend to make them just in my books. I wonder if people would recognise me otherwise? But no matter, I enjoy making them.
A new paint brush is a thing of beauty and anticipation. I think most painters, artists and craft-workers may agree with this statement. I like to see a new paint brush sitting amongst my old, scruffier brushes. The pristine, yet-to-be-worked look about a new brush reminds me of an unopened tulip, or a new book in miniature, or simply a new idea yet to come. As it is my birthday soon, (tomorrow) I will be buying myself one or two new brushes. I think I might make this an annual ritual, the selecting and purchasing of new brushes. Even if I can only afford one good brush. Perhaps all painters should do this? A new brush for a birthday. Make it an event. Even if you can only buy one basic brush from the pound/dollar/euro shop. A basic brush can be very useful - you don’t have to be precious with it, just scrub, or dip in glue, or use it for texture.
I never throw away a brush, or very rarely. Some of my brushes have the most ridiculous, storytelling hairstyles. Some of them have had haircuts - some regrettable, never to grow back. Some are not really brushes any more. Several brushes are glued up, painted shut, like tight-lipped has-been’s who will still wait their turn, when a scratch or a textural effect comes to mind. A few of my brushes do the most work; these are just right, reliable. Though I have no favourite size, I unsurprisingly have mostly small brushes, and I prefer ProArte prolene plus brushes for nearly all that I do. But I will buy a cheaper brush, I will try something new. I have never own, to my knowledge, a brush made from real squirrel fur or any other animal, and am not sure I would want to.
Apart from anything else, a new paint brush is a sign of hope. It is a little confidence boost. It should never be intimidating. And whatever you do, never save it for ‘best’. Saving anything for ‘best’ is not a good idea when it comes to painter’s tools, or anything to do with creativity, I feel.
Grab what is at hand, make the most of what you have and enjoy the process.
*
Just as an aside: I have now started to call my right foot (the one that was broken several weeks ago) my ‘new foot’. As my hospital appointment for a follow up x-ray was cancelled this week, I do not know yet if the bones have mended. (I shall be going this week, hopefully). Nevertheless, it is feeling quite a bit better. So, now, I am careful with my new foot. It still feels different, it still gets uncomfortable. But I like my new foot and it gives me hope. I am grateful that my body can heal.
Photo: recent sketchbook pages. Too early for winter? But I know some parts of the US have seen snow already…. And I do like to think ahead. And I am painting tiny winter paintings (see below).
*
A few small stories from this week
Bonfire Night. Guy Fawkes Night we used to call it, but that is mentioned less often these days… I have warm memories of this time of year. Not only did we have fireworks on my birthday (though I did not like to hold sparklers, not at all). I have a strong memory of my father making honeycomb. The smell of burning sugar filling our tiny kitchen. I seem to remember him cooking it under the grill, could this be possible. There was no honey in it, but plenty of golden syrup, the stuff of dreams… My father rarely cooked, so this was quite the event. The bubbling honeycomb and waiting to let it cool down…. the dark windows of the kitchen. The smell of burnt sugar and bonfires.
*
What is this all down here, I say, bending a little, just enough to see what it is that lurks in layers in the dark beneath shelves. There are slithers of paper, bits of scrap mount board, remnants of paintings cut up to be something in a sketchbook. The remnants of remnants. A small spider hurries away, dragging with it a safety pin full of fluff. I know it has been more than a few weeks since I tidied this area of the room, but really…. I scoop things up and cradle them in my apron. I hobble to my desk. Then I sit down and start to sort things through, amazed and amused at the things that have tucked themselves away.
Next week I will write more about the detritus and hoarding that goes into my sketchbooks, I tell myself….
**
Thank you to everyone who has ordered a ‘lucky dip’ winter tiny painting. I launched this on Wednesday and have already sold several. I am glad that I shared this idea with you here, so that I had the confidence to go ahead and offer this. Of course, I hope very much that everyone who purchases will like the painting they receive. I will be taking orders throughout the next few months.
I have had a few people ask me about embroidery pieces. Over the last several months I have been taking a break from using my machine and then of course I broke my foot…. So, quite simply, I don’t think I will be offering stitch for sale any time soon. If I do stitch again this year it will be for myself, to regain some confidence and explore ideas. I hope you may understand and perhaps in the new year (which is not so far away) new embroidery pieces may appear again….
photo: sketchbook pages from 2015. I like the colours and textures in these.
*
Thanks always for reading here. Please leave a comment, like this post and make sure you are a subscriber - if you would like! I am very grateful to everyone who supports me by buying a coffee. It really does help out and allows me to give time to writing. Thank you!
Good morning & Happy Birthday!!! There is no doubt that your "abstract" collage has your sensibilities & your touch, yes, recognizable as you. Nothing like a new brush (or a new pan of watercolor), I only use synthetic & find the new synthetic squirrel brushes to be perfect & compassionate. “People discuss my art and pretend to understand as if it were necessary to understand, when it's simply necessary to love.”-Claude Monet With kindness, Michele
Oh you took me right back to the only time my father would cook, pumpkin pie every October. It was such an event.