Artists Blog

Whilst visiting another lovely blog by Doda, I found myself getting that adrenlin rush from 2 loves of mine - collections and their boxes. I am a Hopeless Beachcomber. I can wander for hours with my eyes fixed on the minutae in the sand. Others dash into the sea and surf, watch the skies, sunbathe. I fill my pockets and hands with sandy (often smelly) treasures.

The absolute best time to beachcomb in Perth was after a wild winter storm - what bounty was thrown up on shore! Each beach along the coast had it’s own special secrets to throw up - the beach north of Hillarys Marina speacialised in sea urchin tests of all colours ad sizes. Mullaloo, Ram’s Horn spirals. North Cottesloe has violet shells, which in ancient times was the only source of the colour purple for royalty.

I once completed a Calligraphy piece for the Royal Show which was centered on my beachcombing expeditions. It allowed me to “use” up some of my huge collection.

The finished piece was many, many metres long, but came to an untimely and soggy end whilst I was photographing it late last year. I think there’s a whole other post that needs to be devoted to it’s demise….

Anyway, getting back to my other love/addiction are the boxes that houses these collections. Wooden display/museum boxes. I go weak at the knees when I see them. I have a secret desire to be a Natural History Museum Curator I’m sure. I have quite a few of these wooden boxes. And some Perspex ones as well. They are filled with all sorts of treasures - nests, skeletons, seeds, shells, fossils, feathers, skins, eggshells, nuts, bark. You name it, if it’s been on the ground, fallen off a creature, or just plain smelly, I’ve got it in a box.

Getting back to Doda, she has some exquisite paintings of Collection Boxes. Hailing form Scotland, I told her of my beachcombing finds on a shoally beach at St Andrews that now reside in one of my boxes.

Jez entertained Moss and Jem (Border Collies that couldn’t get enough of the frigid waters) whilst I searched the shoreline. Apart from the beautiful sea glass, tiny crabs and unusual northen hemisphere shells, I found a piece of old china that made my heart skip a beat. Rubbing away the grime from the crest, I read my family name printed there. Amazes me to this day.

I do apologise for the bad scan of this illo - it was done some years back for an interactive CD package for schools. The original watercolour had rainbow holographic glitter featured all over the sail.

It ended up on the DVD cover (I apologise again, when I resized this the text Drop Shadows went wild!):

The illustration for the first story (of 20), featured the Woodlum (the animal’s “ark”) in the background. Not such a fantastic scan either!

I’m just in the door from the movies - we saw “Wanted”, with Angelina Jolie at her gun totin’ best. I had planned to do a watercolour of a big & beautiful sail fish for this week’s topic, but the movie won out over sitting at the drawing desk!

Lots of work to do before painting class tomorrow, I believe I’m to be introduced to oil paints - very exciting!

I’ve had such a busy week that I’ve only just sat down to read Wednesday’s paper (and the rest!) this evening. What a nice surprise to see one of my photos being used in the paper:

The original photo and story behind this OCD Sunbird and it’s pooping ways all over my car can be found by clicking here.

I’ve had a few emails asking for some “behind the scenes of the kingfisher painting. Everything I’ve learnt regarding this method has been taught to me by a wonderful bird artist, Paul Margocsy.

I’ve used Clayboard for this piece, but any illustration board (smooth or toothed), and even Matt board (for framing) is OK.

Step1 - After sketching onto my clayboard, I mask the birds and foliage. Using my airbrush, I lay down washes of background colour. I have the board tilted up at an angle, which is better for airbrushing, but not so good for wayward drips!

Airbrushing is really forgiving, I made a heap of mistakes here. The consequence is that the background gets darker and darker. I need to adjust the pressure to a lower setting so that it’s not like a rifle going off!

I use a finger or eraser to gently peel off the dried masking fluid. I’ve used a water soluable wash pencil for the sketch. I touched up some of the birds with the same pencil at this stage.

Time to block in rough areas of colour with a big brush. After this step, I go over and lay in the fine details with a tiny brush. Good eyes and a steady hand an advantage - I don’t have either! I wouldn’t call this method “over-the-top-difficult”, but more “methodical”. I find the feathers/foliage gets rather tedious after a while, but a quick walk or cuppa soon revives my momentum.

And the finished peice you saw 2 posts back. No 8 in using this method, not that I’m counting!

Did anyone sit through the whole Opening Ceremony last night? I admit I flagged after 12.30, but was able to catch the replay this morning. I think of all the artists involved in so many aspects, the costumes, the calligraphy, the lighting, the props, the digital art (stupendous!) and the list goes on. Just FABULOUS!

So what do I have to show for a week’s intensive tuition? Raised blood pressure I’m sure! Cursing fickle feathers and my own inadequacies went hand in hand with my small successes. I completed some new pieces, as well as administering plastic surgery to 2 paintings from last year.

I used  the photo below for reference. Now that it’s Dry Season, our resident pair of Forest Kingfishers patrol our yard for breakfast.

The next painting was also from photos taken in the yard. I can’t tell male from female.

I’ll going to paint in a few water droplets on the front kingfisher. Haven’t tried that before so will study up first.

A “28″ parrot from WA, so called for it’s screeching “28! 28!”

So where to from here? For all the agony, stress and heart palpitations painting gives me, it is a compulsion to finish once I start. Hence, over the years I have learnt not to start! 

How to swap Procrastination with Motivation? Anyone have any suggestions?

Last day, Friday. What a wonderful week of observing and absorbing, learning and trying, becoming full to overflowing with inspiration and enthusiam.

Many chose to spend the better part of the day wandering through the Tanks, looking at what all the other groups have been creating.

This is Mike, he was tutoring big brush watercolours, concentrating on flowers and cyrstal.

He wore the most fabulous shirts and cowboy boots each day. You could hear the “clip clop” of those Texan boots a mile off.

The beginning of his gorgeously coloured piece.

Finished demo.

Mike is also an accomplished bird and water artist. This is a full size sheet painting. Big. Scary big.

This is the wall where he and his students displayed their finished work. I think I’ll be signing up for his class next year. After straining over miniscule paintings using brushes  only a few hairs wide, I’m needing something big & loose!

This is Naomi, she is in my photography class at Uni. She is trying oil painting for thr first time. The subject matter was a still life I put together for photography last semester - my chillies, boar jawbone, cocky feathers, split nautilus shell etc.

This is Helen, with her oil on paper Bromeliad painting. The photo does not do it justice.

Other beautiful broms were painted.

I think this was done by Clare. You can almost dip your fingers into that pooled water.

The exhibition was smoothed along with glasses of good wine and plenty of delicious foods.

The following are some of Paul’s work.

He is just so quick, it’s sickening.

I asked on the last day if he could do a demo showing outstretched wings. He bashed these quackers out in next to no time at all. Maybe an hour and a half? 30 years of experience certainly makes a difference. I agonise over a single feather for hours.

A kooka appeared before our very eyes like magic. He is a true talent.

No more room in this post - I’ll sort out my paintings and put them up in another post, as far away from Paul’s painting s as possible!

“What a gorgeous place this is!” say all the visitors to The Tanks. I uttered the very same words last year at my first ArtEscape. As part of the Botanical Gardens complex, the old WWII Tanks serve a much more peaceful purpose than their intended use.

Set into the rainforest at the foot of Mount Whitfield, it is a tranquil getaway so conducive to creating works of beauty.

A giant Quandong tree grows just outside Tank 2. Favourite food of the shy Cassowary.

Heliconias hang like giant necklaces.

Red Gate Hill was once again the setting for the 100+ group photo. Hopefully photos (on DVD with soundtrack!) ready in a couple of weeks.

There was a kookaburra sitting atop the gate watching proceedings. By the time I got my camera, he’d moved on into the canopy.

Every seat in the parklands is not your average seat. They are all works of art in themselves.

Even the rocks are decorated.

This Northern Jewelled Spider was busy spinning and weaving. I could watch spiders at work for hours.

No time for that though. A quick stretch of the legs with the camera and then it’s back to work. There’s painting to be done!

We are lucky to have a fully equipped on site artshop whilst we create at ArtEscape.

Adrian Wolf kept himself out of mischief during quiet times with his wonderful painting.

Can you guess who she is?

Adrian was completing this piece for a commission, and someone wandered in and ordered another. A good week for Adrian! He’s also an accomplished patchworker. Look out for him in an upcoming edition of the patchwork magazine, having already been featured for his Marilyn Monroe pieces.

With regards to how much I spent at the in-house art store? Just call me Cleopatra - Queen of DeNile.

Day 2, and Jez has joined me. He spun out when he realised I was being tutored by Paul Margocsy, and wasn’t at Uni. One extra school holiday certainly wouldn’t hurt, and his teacher actually said he could spend the whole week there if he wanted.

Jez says Paul is “Hell Awesome”. That’s pretty much the highest accolade a teenager can give. He concentrated deeply as he watched Paul work, absorbing as much as he could. He didn’t want to stop for morning tea, lunch or afternoon tea. Paint, that’s all he wanted to do.

Today we were tackling the airbrush, which can be quite daunting. Air compressors, needles, reading gauges - a scary metal monster to some. Jez couldn’t wait!

Paul led the way. A tip is to have your board on an angle so the inks don’t pool. Careful they don’t drip though!

Another tip is to start outside of your board’s edges, so that no blobby bits occur.

Jez lays down the first colour  (blue) in  broad sweeps.

Next are some ochres. A test sheet of paper alongside your board is good to get the inks flowing smoothly through the airbrush needle.

Foliage greens are laid over the top. The masking fluid covering the bird sketch can be removed once the inks are touch dry.

Got a problem with your painting? No problem with Paul around. He could fix the impossible with a flick of his brush.

Jez was well impressed. There were airbrush dramas going on in the background.

The artist well pleased with his efforts.

There was a TV crew buzzing about in the morning. They were right “in my face” when Paul and I were discussing some aspects of one of my paintings. My “28″ from late last year needed some form of plastic surgery, and Paul was physically positioning his arms/wings so I could see where to place them on paper. The camera crew were having a great time positioning their camera to capture this hilarious pantomime from all angles. I couldn’t even look at them I was so embarrassed.

The “Meet & Greet” BBQ followed into the evening, so I was relieved not to have to watch Channel 7 news. Unfortunately other people did and let me know!

With all the work at the gallery with the exhibition installation, I completely forgot about Illustration Friday. A  really quick graphite sketch is what I’ve got this week.

It’s inspired by the homeless Moggie that used to visit for food. (Every house we’ve had has a Ginger Tom come to visit) Took a long time before I could pick this cat up (he trusted no -one), and whenI did, he weighed less than a bird. Lots of food and cutting of knots from his coat made him feel comfortable inside, but everyone else miserable. He just did not get that he wasn’t supposed to fight with the cats, the dog, the Man….a very sour customer.

When we left the house last year, the new resident was determined that he wasn’t coming inside, but I’m not so sure…..

I used to ride. I used to love it. I really want to ride again. 

During these school holidays we have had a whole posse of different horses riding past our house. We are surrounded by acreages here, and the local Pony Club is just down the road.

I used to ride 3 or 4 times a week at a riding school. I was going to buy my own horse, had even picked a young 3 yr old gelding from an Arabian stud in the hills of Perth. I had organised where he was going to be agisted. But I bought a car instead.

Considering the price of fuel, I should have stuck with the horse.

Over the weekend I uncovered my battered old leather riding gloves. I put them on, and that’s just made the whole “I want to ride again” thing worse.

I attended a French owned riding school for years. I had a German instructoress named Marion. Even the horses were scared of her, but man did she know her stuff! The whole methodology of this school was very European in nature, with failure not an option. You learned to ride, and ride well.

Here is Marion on one of her Hanoverian Stud stallions. I think I saw her with her hair down once, at a Christmas party. Last I heard of her, she was receiving obscene amounts of money for a single stallion service.

We were lucky at the school, we had a covered indoor dressage areana with mirrors (very helpful), and several grey sand yards outside. If you rode in summer outside, you would have nostrils full of black stuff for the rest of the day.

Here is Chia, the Anglo Arab I used to ride. She was only a small horse, 15.5hh, but she could go like the wind when she put her head down.

I used to ride at night a lot. Once the lesson was over, the school horses were so frisky, you could hardly hold them back from their night paddock. Chia was a spoilt horse and I returned her to a cosy stall, brushed her down, put on her blankets & hood and gave her some sweet smelling hay.

Here is an old gentleman named Bonsoir. He was 30 yrs old in this picture, but he still played like a young colt. He was the consumate schoolie. When he was retired from group lessons, he really fretted. So they put him back in the lessons, but without a rider. He would complete every manoeuvre perfectly, such was his training.

He still loved to jump, but only little ones. I disliked jumps, so the little ones were fine by me!

And the reason I got into riding in the first place? I loved horses, as almost every little girl did. I drew them at every opportunity I got. Last night I found an old yellowed sketch from high school, shoved in with some school yearbooks.

I was eventually banned from drawing horses by the art teacher. I think everyone was well and truly sick of them.

So now I’m sitting here wistfully, thinking about jodphurs, boots, and that sweaty horse smell that was truly divine to me!