New Ways Of Working...

Technology scares me.

I mean, really scares me.

It's this intangible entity, that in one moment can be our best friend, the next our worst enemy.

I still can't believe that I actually have an online shop and that Instagram has become such a wonderful community that means a great deal to me.

Technology has become a huge part of my life but I have had to get through many a wobbly moment, as I suspect many of us have had to also.

It's been like that when I decided to try and learn how to use Photoshop. 

It took me years to pluck up the courage to begin, because for years I simply told myself so often that I couldn't do it, and so, in a way, it became my truth.

Now, I'm never gong to be a master of Photoshop, and I will probably only ever use about 1% of its abilities, but I do enjoy slowly learning its tricks (thanks to my amazingly patient friends and some fab online tutorials!)

This past few months I set myself the challenge to create a zine, initially for some teaching prep, but it has evolved into more of a passion-project that I would possibly like to develop further in the future.

I've really enjoyed creating a series of digital-collages that include snippets of my own artwork and scanned vintage papers. 

At first I began trying out some of the new techniques that I have learned, but I think that the theme of 'womanhood' and the different roles we have to play in our lives has started to emerge.

A book that often surfaces through my work in a myriad of ways is 'Women Who Run With The Wolves' by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, and the digital collage of a woman having to wear her protective 'Mama Bear' mask echoes the influence that this amazing writer has had on me over the years.

I hope to finish the zine soon, I purposefully haven't planned it out and I just want to let things emerge - it may be a little strange, but then, so is Life!

Wishing you a wonderful week chucks X

Order Amongst The Chaos...

Isn't it strange how quickly you get into a new routine?

I've always needed routine to feel safe I suppose,

 and I've never been great at adapting quickly to change.

These are the things that help to make sense of my days:

  1. Painting.

2. Doing a bit of exercise in the morning, either a short jog or my Davina DVD (I do love Davina!)

3. Trying to learn Photoshop (I've been taking an online course from Domestika, they're a bargain!)

Doing even a little bit of one or more of the things on my list have given me some kind of stability and routine, especially on those 'wobbly' days.

I hope that you're all keeping safe and well, 

have you found things to do that help you make sense of the days?

Big hugs X

Icarus' Sister...

I found out the other day that I have been lucky enough to have this painting short-listed for the Harley Gallery Open Exhibition 2020.

I wasn't going to post about it because it's hard to share something like this without the worry of sounding like a show-off, and also it might not get through the next round of judging.

But then I thought 'why not'!

I love following artists and designers and celebrating their good news along the way, isn't it funny how harshly we judge ourselves!
So I hope that you don't mind me sharing this piece of news with you, I'm off to do a little happy dance!

Good luck to all the artists who have entered, can't wait for the time that the gallery will be open again!

X

Catching The Wave...

It popped into my head the other day while I was in my studio, that painting is a lot like surfing (I do apologise but I'm not sure if that is a metaphor or an analogy)???

Before I go any further, please do not think for one moment that I am a surfer of any kind - if my toe touches the sea I literally shrivel up in a hypothermia-induced panic attack! 

However, my hubby loves to surf and it brings him as much joy as art does to me.

Surfing isn't all about the big wave or the flashy move, and neither is painting.
You have to paddle for a long time and wait patiently for the waves to come. You have no control over this and the only thing that you can do is to show up and be there.
Painting is the same, it's the layers that take hours to build up, the work that will be covered by the more defined marks in the end. It's knowing that although it might be you holding the paint brush, you're not really in control - it's a two way thing.
Surfers are 'dancing' with Mother Nature, sometimes she shows up and will join in, sometimes she's washing her hair.
Painters are creating with... I'm still not sure 'who' to be honest... but I call her the Universe, and again, sometimes she will play and guide the brush marks and happy accidents, and sometimes she's got better things to do!
Sometimes a surfer will ride that big wave and the buzz will last for days, and sometimes the paint just flows. Once in a while it feels like you could literally chuck a bucket of paint at the canvas and the image will appear like magic.
When the Universe isn't being so generous with the old creativity vouchers, you have to hang onto those precious times and have faith that it will return (without getting too philosophical I guess that is the spiritual part of creativity in all its forms, and that is why we carry on even when it's difficult).
Sometimes we suffer the 'wipe-out' and a whole day's painting has to be literally wiped-out because it's just not damn good enough and that's the most valuable lesson of all.
It proves your resilience and faith, not only to yourself but to the Universe. You have to look her straight in the eye and say 'this isn't going to put me off, not one little bit, I'll be back for more don't you worry chuck!'

I hope that you are finding solace in creativity in whatever form brings you joy, my poor hubby can't go surfing at this present time but he'll be back out there when he can.
Sending much love X

My Studio Windowsill...

This week, me and my hubby have finally painted the woodwork in our house.

When I reached my little studio, paint brush in hand, I suddenly stopped as I was painting the windowsill.

I just couldn't 'gloss over' the twenty years' worth of drips, scratches and blobs.

Without sounding too philosophical, I don't want a 'fresh start' when all of this is over.

I want to remember.

And I must not forget.

The unimaginable has happened, and the world has literally had to stop and think.

We've had to re-evaluate, reflect and recalibrate.

And when I watch the news there is tragedy and fear, but now the heroes are making the headlines, not the villains.

And for the first time in my life I actually realise just how much I have.

And just how bloody lucky I am.

And I must not forget.

And so I'm leaving a little patch unpainted on my windowsill, so that in years to come it will remind me about how Life was before.

PS: I can't really find the proper words and I know that this blog post is written in a very clumsy manner.

But today I just had to write this down (more for myself than anything else).

 I send you all my very best wishes chucks, stay safe X

A Lesson Learned...

During the summer I attended a two day experimental painting workshop at The Newlyn School of Art.

The tutor was Sam Bassett, and I have been a fan of his work for a long time.

We had a glorious time playing with paint and mixed media, and the fellow students were such a great group of creative, generous souls.

Using some of the papers I prepared, this was the piece I worked on during the second day.

What I found out about myself was that I can feel embarrassed about the recurring motifs and subject matter that appears in my work.

I think at some point everyone can feel that they should do something different, something more.

So when my rabbit- eared girl decided to come out to play, I talked about this when we were sharing our thoughts in the group.

But I learned a valuable lesson that day.

She is MY rabbit- eared girl.

And honest imagery evolves slowly and will keep re-appearing.

And I'm not troubled by this anymore, and if any more hares or wild haired ladies or jackdaws and black birds want to come and play, they are more than welcome!

( Thanks for listening, I feel better for that!)

X

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Gratitude And Baldness...

It's that time of year for reflection and to take a minute and count your blessings.

And funnily enough I think the one thing that I am truly grateful for is my alopecia.

I lost my hair two years ago due to stress, and I am so glad that my anxiety manifested itself into something so visible.

I think that if I had developed something else I would have ignored it, and just soldiered on.

But I think that when all your hair drops out in the space of a few weeks your body is giving you quite a strong message.

Of course, when it happened I wasn't thankful at all.

In fact the first thing I thought when the doctor told me was 'great, I have a condition that rhymes with my name.'

'Hello. My name's Letitia and I have alopecia.'

And it was difficult at first when I decided to ditch the wig.

The first time I ventured out shopping, the woman at the till smiled at me in a pitying manner and whispered:

'You're so brave, I wouldn't have the guts to go out like that.'

Being British, I smiled apologetically and mumbled something as I packed my bags.

However, as I looked up to pay her I felt much better.

Being ridiculously and utterly British, I didn't say it to her face, but I giggled all the way to my car as I repeatedly said in my head,

'Well lovey,

I'm not half as brave as you wearing that frosted green eye shadow and blue mascara.

Given the choice I know which look I'd rather be rocking around Asdas.'

What I am truly grateful for is that it made me and my hubby sit down and re-assess what we really wanted in life.

We decided that we wanted to get off the Merry- Go- Round and slow down a little.

And this last year has been a really good one and I appreciate my friends and family with all my heart.

I was thinking about this this morning as a few little tufts have started to peek out of my scalp here and there, in fact I have half a side burn!

But if it never comes back I don't really care that much.

(The only thing I'm not grateful about is that now I have to shave my legs!

Alopecia without the benefits I guess!)

Hope you didn't mind me prattling on chucks, thank you for all the support and comments you have sent me throughout the year.

I hope you have a wonderful Christmas time and a magical New Year.

Lots of love xxx

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Mother Tongue...

Sometimes journaling can catch you quite unawares.

You think you're just playing around,

but when you look at it later

it tells you what has been in the back of your mind.

I've been experimenting for a few weeks now with printing, and this was made from the scrips and scraps that were left over.

But that morning had been a little tricky and being 'mother' had been a little difficult.

I am very lucky as I don't have to face such a problem very often, but it's all part of the job isn't it.

I think this is telling me that even when you sometimes have to use harsh words, they are always said with love.

Journals are funny things.

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ENC Therapy!

Now is the time for taking down the tree and having to buy a new Radio Times because the Christmas Special has run out.

Pretty depressing.

But fear not, because a new life-enhancing, mood-improving therapy is sweeping the nation!

ENC Therapy was devised by myself and me good mate Helen a couple of months ago. We were having a marathon chat on the phone, putting the world to rights and having a good old rant when I said:

'Oo, I'll have to go because I really, really fancy egg and chips!'

So Helen and I agreed to photograph our egg and chips while we were having our dinner,(we live quite a long ways from each other) so we could enjoy the ultimate comfort food together!

And we both agreed, nay, marvelled, at the restorative power of ENC ( egg 'n' chips)!

You can see that Helen is a very talented photographer:

And I am not:

But they did taste bloomin' good!

So, if the post Christmas slump is getting you down, share a virtual ENC session with one of your friends!

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Universal Balance Is Restored...

I walk into the charity shop with a bag of donations, feeling all self righteous inside.

I leave with a beautiful, but somewhat large, vintage plastic stag's head, complete with honking great cow bells.

Feelings of smugness and de-cluttered soul cleansing are replaced with joy and giddiness.

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The Charity Shopping Charter:

A couple of weeks ago something happened in my favourite charity shop that shocked me to the core.

It was one of those things that take a while to simmer under your skin, so that by the time you get home you're in a right old mardy.

So now I have to get it off my chest.

Are you ready to hear about this heinous crime against us hardy, belligerent and dedicated charity shoppers?

Well, then I shall begin.

As I was happily perusing the shelves of (possible) treasure and delight, a young whippersnapper sashayed up to the counter and said, (not even in hushed tones, may I add):

'Have you got any '50's stuff, you know, in the back?'

I am sure that there was a sharp intake of breath throughout the shop.

And needless to say, young Miss Whippersnapper- Cheeky Chops left said counter, treasure- less (yet shamelessly unawares of her insolence).

So I thought that a charter of charity shopping etiquette should be drawn up for the whole land to see.

(May I take this opportunity to apologise in advance, as I know that your thrifting manners will be impeccable, but humour me please, it's all part of my blogging therapy!)

THE CHARITY SHOPPING CHARTER:

1: Always check the window display, many a treasure can be lost in the initial rush of excitement as you walk through the door.

2: Always respect the ladies, (otherwise known as 'the sacred keepers of the treasure').

3: If charity shopping with a friend, never shop together. Continue your conversation from the other sides of the shop. (Yes, I know that shouting across the room may seem a tad impolite, and not befitting my list of right and proper behaviour,but seasoned thrifters will know and understand). There is nothing, I repeat nothing, worse than a simultaneous grab of a most delicious piece of vintage fabric. If you are close friends this will then lead to a never ending 'no, you take it', 'no, no, you' wrangle. This only leads to heart- ache and the 'winner' will forever look upon the treasure with guilt.

4: You have to donate.

5: You have to attend. Regularly.

6: You never give up the search.

7: You cannot ask for things 'from the back room'. That is the inner sanctum. Only the sacred keepers of the treasure can enter, or offer you treasure, from the back room.

Phew! That's better.

Thank you.

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Ikea? Oh Dear!

Anyone else traumatised by the evil gnome- bashing blood bath that is otherwise known as the Ikea advert?

The little folk that live at my house have to hide behind the settee!

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