Just coming up to 8 am. I have a bit of a muscle spasm in my back, the result of a 12 hour adjudicating day on Saturday, not enough sleep and a very busy March ahead of me. And a heap of other stuff.
I needed to focus my mind on something other than what was in it. So I did this. It’s done with water colour and pencil on a pistachio shell.
Here’s some pics with different backgrounds.
(Later) Actually, they do look a bit stare-y and creepy, don’t they? Might be interesting to see whether I could do a matching one and then fashion a nose and a mouth out of a couple more shells and see what that looks like.
About 20 years ago, the older lad and I did a mini tour of bits of England and Wales. Mainly because I loved the John Fowles novel, The French Lieutenant’s Woman, we visited Lyme Regis in Dorset. We couldn’t find a bed for the night there, so we drove east to the next town, Charmouth. Having booked in to to a small hotel, we went for a little walk along a coastal path and came across an absolute carpet of ladybirds. I’d never seen this before but it was an extraordinary sight. We didn’t want to tread on them so we turned back.
For my birthday, my step-brother Tim and his wife Sue sent me, inter alia, a paperback book called The Salt Path by Raynor Winn.
It’s a true story based in the south west of England. There’s a passage in the book where the two main characters are camping in a field and they, too, come across a carpet of ladybirds. There are all sorts of myths associated with ladybirds and, in the story, they take this ladybird multitude as a sign of good fortune.
Well, it so happens, as anyone reading this blog will know, that I started painting on pistachio shells recently. Christine, having seen the pistachio based paintings I did last week, saved a bunch of shells for me yesterday. When I saw them, their shape shouted ladybird and so I married all the thoughts above with the shells and did this.
First, red acrylic paint (mixed with a bit of blue to make it darker – I’m getting better at mixing paints to get the colours I want). Edward suggested these looked like pomegranate seeds.
Then a little black gouache for the head, the parting in the wing case and the spots.
Then some white for the markings just behind the head, and the eyes. A background suggesting vegetation and, hey, a ladybird swarm!
I do like it when I get an idea and can carry it through. This is how I envisaged my idea turning out.
My work often takes me to the north west. Last week it was Derry. This weekend it’s Letterkenny. It usually takes about three and a half hours to drive up: M50, M1, across to Ardee, N2, Monaghan, Aughnacloy, Omagh, Strabane, and then this evening Lifford and on to Letterkenny. This afternoon the M50 was clogged and the M1 was slow so it took four hours.
To keep sane and awake. I listen to podcasts, music and or an audiobook. Rarely, now, the radio.
Today, for the first part of the journey, I listened to my new favourite, Lavinia Meijer, a South Korean born, Dutch harpist. I’ve always liked the harp. It’s an elegant instrument and I am consistently impressed by anyone who can play it or even keep it in tune. As an instrument, I love the mellow plucked sound. The other day I listened to Satie’s Gnossienne No 1 played on the piano and then listened to Ms Meijer play it on the harp. I felt a huge emotional connection to the softness of the latter.
Ms Meijer plays a lot of Philip Glass, beautifully. Have a look and a listen to this.
Hearing and seeing somebody interact with their instrument like this reminded me of Nicola Benedetti. I’m not a classical music buff and until I heard her play, I had thought all violinists were the same. But Ms Benedetti manages to coax the sweetest of sweet sounds out of her violin. I have to admit that this track has made my eyes mist over more than once.
For the latter part of the journey I listened to a variety of podcasts; Michael Palin and Naomi Klein being interviewed by David Baddiel on the Penguin books podcast, and an episode of my favourite podcast, Reasons to be Cheerful, a left leaning, positive podcast on political ideas presented by Ed Miliband and Geoff Lloyd. This one explored the pros, cons and myths surrounding taxing the rich.
I also did a fair amount of thinking.
My step-sister Judy recently expressed an interest in my moon on the sea painting. I quite like that one myself. The photo of it was flattering however and I felt that I’d like to do a better one for her. The original was done on black card.
I had a go at another one on scrunched up, flattened out and inked rice paper. It was ok but the wrinkles were a bit distracting …
… so I ironed it.
… and then looked at it with a mount …
Not bad but the original wrinkles have resulted in some vertical marks that don’t quite look right so I’ll have another go.
It’s both a challenge and a pleasure to create/make something with a particular recipient in mind. The things I’ve been most pleased about and proud of have been done this way.
I brought some paper, paint and brushes with me. I did these. Gold gouache on black card. Chinese brush. Not quite enough zen. I’m a bit distracted. But they’ll do.
Today is my birthday and I’ve been feeling the love of family and friends. Texts, messages, a cooked breakfast, gifts, hugs, kisses, cake. What more could a man want?
The week has been disruptive. I was in Derry and there were a few days in which I’d be hard pressed to suggest that I was engaged in creative activity. I thought about stuff and wrote down a few ideas but, although I brought some art materials to the north west I didn’t get anything on paper. That was frustrating.
Anyway, that’s bound to happen occasionally so I’m not going to dwell on it. This is not a prison sentence.
Today, I was exploring some ideas with eggs. The idea of drilling holes in them came from something I saw on the internet …
The wrapping idea was a result of finding brown paper strips in the recycle bin …
It’s six months to the day since I resolved to do something creative every day.
At that time, the resolution was partly an attempt at distraction. So, therapy, in a sense. It was also partly an attempt to reconnect with my childhood and the intensely creative atmosphere in which I spent the first ten years of my life. And partly as a kind of valve that gave me mental space to scratch a creative itch (and mix metaphors).
It was never my intention to create an outcome or an object every day. Just to spend some time with creativity. There has been less than a handful of days in which I haven’t fulfilled the resolution. Sometimes but not that often, I’ve spent the better part of a day doing a creative thing. Others, it might be five or ten minutes. Yesterday, for example, I knew I was going to be busy. I woke up frustrated that I might not be able to get my creative fix. But I found five minutes in the morning to work on a wood carving project I started some time ago, and another five later, to sketch (poorly) part of an indoor plant. That was enough.
From the start, I’ve taken the broadest possible definition of creativity. For me it’s about fashioning something out of something else. So, yes, it has covered painting, working with wood, macrame, linocut printing, making candles, carving things in pebbles. It also covers writing, verse speaking, make-up, masks, blogging, creating and editing video, making music, cooking, preserving and so on.
The point has never been about the output. While I have created some things specifically for others, most of this is about the process, not the end product. I have used meatpunkspit as a sort of diary to record what I have been doing. It’s not secret or hidden (how could it be?) but I haven’t broadcast its existence. I know that there are a few people who look at every post and that there are others who dip in now and again. That’s fine. Much of what I put up is experimental or unfinished or just attempts at things that have taken my fancy. I’m not an artist. But I do art.
My converted attic, where I do most of this, is littered with daubed-on paper, egg shells, used teabags, wood shavings, tubes of paint, brushes, chisels, gouges, pens, pencils and all manner of other materials. I’ve made/created lots of stuff, far more than I have ever put on this blog, and most of it isn’t great. But it’s mine and I’m happy that I’ve done it all. And I’m going to continue to do it because, as well as still being partly about those things I mentioned above, keeping this resolution is now also a source of significant pleasure.
Just as a kind of summary, here’s some of the things I’ve been doing …
It’s very straightforward. You need wax, wicks, a few containers, some sort of double boiler, a jug and a thermometer.
I bought my wax and wicks from NI Candles. Cheap and incredibly quick service. It’s soy wax so it’s sustainable and clean. You need to calculate the size of the wick you need, based on the diameter of your container. I’m using tuna cans at the moment and the diameter is 8cm, which is pretty wide for a candle, so the wicks I ordered are quite big.
You calculate the amount of wax you need by measuring the ml capacity of the containers, multiplying that by .77, and expressing the answer in grams. You then melt the wax in a double boiler/bain marie and heat it to about 85 degrees, let it cool to about 57 degrees, and pour it into the containers, into which you have placed wicks. The latter proved to be a bit problematic.
The guides suggest that you need to secure the wick tabs to the bottom of the containers with a dab of hot wax. That’s OK but the problem is that when you pour hot wax into the container, the wax holding the wicks to the bottom of the containers melts and the wicks fall over. To try to prevent them falling over, the guides suggest using chopsticks or lollipop sticks to hold them in place. I tried this but, of course, the hot wax also melts the wax that keeps the wicks rigid, and they fall over anyway. I faffed around a bit and eventually folded the wicks over the chopsticks. That seemed to work but I’ll have to come up with a better solution because the wicks in my candles are probably not centred enough. Anyway, for these experimental candles, they’ll do.
Here’s some pics of bits of the process. First, the wax melting …
The containers and wicks …
The containers filled with wax and my improvised wick securing solution …
And here the are, cooled. I need to leave them to cure for a couple of days before I trim the wicks and try them out.
A bench hook is a device that one can use on one’s table/bench/desk, that holds a piece of work steady while one works on it. One end of it has a piece underneath that hooks on to the bench and the other has a piece on top against which one can rest the thing being worked on.
A bench hook is made of wood and it has to be a hard wood if one is using it for carving. It’s a while since I bought a plank of wood and I was surprised by how few shops sell such things. Luckily, not very far from me is a place called Woodworkers that does. On my second visit (don’t ask), I managed to purchase an off-cut of mahogany for a fiver. That actually proved to be the hardest part of the process.
Yesterday morning, Christine and I breakfasted in Cinnamon in Ranelagh. It was an expensive but unexceptional breakfast. You can read about it here.
Today’s creative efforts included writing that blog, playing the ukulele and practicing some strokes with the Chinese brushes. I had this notion, inspired by something I saw on Facebook this morning, that I would scrunch up some rice paper, flatten it out and colour it in various shades of grey and see what it would look like as a background.
I quite like the look of this. The highlights on the left hand side are more subtle and better for it.