suggestion

subtlety, a hint... a whisper, they all conjure something mysterious and secretive. In the collection of work I am making for the exhibition, I have a few boxes which were purpose made for me and have various sliding panels which protrude from the sides and a hinged lid which opens to a very shallow depth. The idea is similar to the old Russian doll concept of magical unexpected opening parts, my version of the "Transformer" toys children play with.
The boxes are made in such a way that you cannot see all of the pictures at any time. You have to choose by opening or sliding some out which in turn obscure others behind it. These boxes require a number of individual works and a lot of time... making it a collection of pieces in one. I hope buyers will understand why I will ask a fair chunk for them....
These boxes allude to the way we tell stories and relate events about ourselves. Some stories change narrative order and might obscure other information through emphasis or even omission. The boxes will each have a loose thematic concept.
The one I am working on right now, will explore the idea of voyeuristic eavesdropping. Thus some nudes and some suggestive imagery. Hoarknockle will have to be chained up while I work on this one. Or blindfolded (I cant be expected to get my own tea can I now?)
The image up here is a suggestion. I have long had a fascination with drapery and the way cloth folds and wrinkles. This rumpled cloth with be used inside the shallow box with a figure in the lid, seeming to look down at it when the lid is lifted.
There is work to be done.
Lady Sandra is occupied all weekend and I shall be working too.

is that the sound of antonio banderas?

I suddenly hear the voice of Antonio Banderas and it strikes fear in my veins... and this image looks like one of those sad eyed cat pictures sold in furniture stores. But the real cat looks like this... I may need to retire for a massage and a stiff gin and overnight rest before looking at this again.
Hoarknockle likes it. Lady Sandra has not yet seen it in this most recent state.
What will the dogs think of me if they find out I have been drawing a sad eyed cat?

growing kitty

sometimes the work just seems to grow from its own volition. Its like catching a perfect wave and holding on as you surf it, unsure if you'll manage to ride it all the way. Occasionally a work does this and you are left slightly breathless by how it propels itself along and you only seem to be sitting by watching.
This cat drawing is going that way..... so far.
I have been putting down washes and working into them to model the forms and its been working well. Often even simple tasks will seem to be thwarted by inane little details and irritations, but on other days things seem to flow without impediment. This sounds so terribly Jedi.
I am having fun with this.
Hoarknockle has a TV interview with a local network this morning to cast some light on life on the estate and working for us. He has dutifully dusted off some inconsequential paintings he has done, hoping that they may ask him about them. I'll try not to interrupt the interview by calling for tea....athough, then again........

baked in a pie... er, box

The birds are all in...done, cooked.
I wish I could see this image from the outside... as a person who stumbles upon it without having made or thought about it.
I have contacted artist's representatives and over a long time have done so many times... and never had anyone show interest.
Is it too far off the main road...that well travelled path which feeds popular culture the pre-digested pulp they so desire. Fast food of the mind and soul, the crippling addiction to mediocrity.
OKay...what's next?
Lady Sandra took the yacht out to get the mail. Have I mentioned how much rain we have been getting? I do believe I have seen a submarine at the local airport.
Hoarknockle is getting moldy...either that, or he is wearing a green velvet suit.

tin bird too?

this image is begging for some kind of explanation...I think. I shall abstain from stating the obvious.
As the rains continue... or has it ceased? (it has!)
Farmers were exchanging their tractors for submarines.
I have continued my exploration of this flying creature in my picture as his kin tug fat earthworms from my sodden lawn. I think I was first drawn to draw them after seeing a pelican covered in iridescent black BP spilled Gulf oil. The poor bird so entirely coated in blackness was a powerful graphic image... unsettling and inky wet. Maybe it reminds me of Mickey Mouse's foe from many years ago...The Blot! (yes...a very long time ago)
This picture is possibly a rather surreal collection of ideas... but then I do wish to avoid the obvious and easily digested literal "smack you in the face with a baseball bat" kind of concept. Or so I hope.

tin bird

Legerdemain ... trickery!
Yes... its not a real bird. Hoarknockle was aghast!
The story of the grackles continues with this rusty impostor pretending to be a bird.
After the rain the handcrafted tin cutout just had to rust...even digitally.
At least the cool weather and moisture is good for the wines in my cellar.
Red wine is a fine antidote to the damp chill.

boxing

It keeps going. The rain confines me to my studio rather than getting outside and riding with the hounds on my bicycle.
Lady Sandra has been driving indoors lest her car gets rained upon.
The grackles are behaving in their boxes.

baked in a pie...

well...in this case put in boxes, not pies.
I have laid the base of boxes in this digital drawing and am adding the birds. Its part discovery process as I look at the birds on my lawn and see how they move and act, then try and find something about them that is interesting and use in each bird in its box.
Its like carrying memories of events of experiences or people in your mind, there often seems to be some illogical memory hidden amongst the categories of things... and I often wonder how this particular memory may have become lodged in a specific group of dissimilar recollections.
This is progress thus far. No birds were injured during the making of this image. Hoarknockle was subjected to repeated tea-making.
This image still has a way to go yet. I'm curious as to where it will go. Fingers crossed.

early birds

The rain had blackbirds hunting earthworms trying to escape the soggy soil and brought the proverb, "Early bird gets the worm", to mind. Followed quickly by "opening a can of worms".
The blackbirds have quite an ominous stalking stride and their graphic yellow eyes with black centers give them a very evil look as they poke around the lawn in search of worms. Like some avian opera without singing. Equally incomprehensible story line.
Possibly the best word to explain the feeling is ominous.
Either that or I would have to say they remind me of Hoarknockle skulking around the corridors with a hangover.
These are all going into boxes I have drawn. Lots of textural patina and atmospheric marks.
Lady Sandra has been baking peasant bread. There is a certain irony in this. The house smells delicious. I need to investigate.

just a house

just a house this time. A house from the past where memories were made.
No afterburners or the smell of jet fuel.
Its for a friend who will give it as a gift to the person who lived there for a long time. I wanted it to have a feel of something well worn and well known. There are a few birds and a squirrel near the tree. There is an old push lawnmower rusting quietly.
Nothing grandiose. A peaceful drawing.
I should ease up on the relaxing herbal tea and have an espresso. Maybe give Hoarknockle a whipping.

roaring afterburners

I am still shaking the noise out of my ears. I had the good fortune to be next to the runway at the Maple Flag exercise when a whole lot of machines leapt off the ground. Miraculous I tell you! This new flying machine invention will change things a lot.
I don't get out of my studio enough, that is evident.
It was quite a thing to watch F16 and F18 planes rocket off the runway of Cold Lake air base. The sheer intensity of the subsonic shock is exhilarating. Lady Sandra was on hand to hold my camera bag (occasionaly) and also to snap some photos with another camera. She was also one of three ladies there and drew enough attention to cause a pilot to wave at her while he was taking off! She is the type of beauty who would have been painted onto war planes as a pinup girl. She has decided that her life wont be perfect until she buys and flies her very own F18 Hornet. Seems I will need to sell a few paintings.
There were quite a few planes from distant lands as well as their crews. Interesting to see and experience. Apart from the jets, there were also some transport Hercules and Transalls from Germany, France and New Zealand.
I have been at work on a digital piece that shows most of the planes I saw on the day. Its a collage of sorts
with a drawing as main image.
I have yet to devise a way to show the roar of the engines. Meanwhile Hoarknockle has been tasked to make jet noises in the background to inspire me. (Just between us...he isnt really succeeding)
"Hoarknockle!"

caught in trap

The child portraits have been delivered. The parents like it. Nothing like painting a child portrait to bring out the utterly defenseless, insecure artist in erm...uh...Hoarknockle...yes..thats it...Hoarknockle! He was just so worried about the children looking perfectly as they should... I had to give him the afternoon off.
The idea of seeing children's faces on milk cartons is something distinctly unnerving. The thought that each photo is actually a person who is missing. Its so pathetic and desperate... the kind of situation one never believes yourself will ever have to face. It brings all kinds of horrors to mind. Lots of "what if?" questions.
When you read of dreadful persons keeping others captive in a dungeon or a cage... always makes me wonder about who might be in a situation like that right at this moment... one day we may see the story in a paper and try to recall what you were doing at that moment...and how horrid it must have been for the victim while we continued obliviously with our lives.
Milk cartons are so democratic. The lowest common denominator which we all seem to have in our homes. The milk carton is a symbol of the common place and the ordinary.
What if the concept was changed and what if...?
The longer I worked on this, the more creepy and disconcerting the wire cages around the corks became. The twisted, torqued wire suddenly had a whole new voice.
No wonder I had to give Hoarknockle the day off.
Now I'll have to go and mow the lawn myself. I often don't think things through so well.

digital rarotecha

Not often do I plunge recklessly into work without a good idea of what I want, but this time I have. I havent had the time or the opportunity to try something experimental and for some reason I have found barriers in my head. Artificial lines in the gray matter , barbed wire with "Perigo minas" stenciled crudely onto metal signs hanging forlornly from the rusty strands. And for some odd reason I obeyed my own decree.
What do I know? I know better than to listen to myself. I should have learned it from my sons, they never seem to.
It was a journey of exploration into a well known territory, hoping to find something new.
It was different and familiar at the same time. Rather like cobbling together a being from friends' body parts. (I have just been reading about Mary Shelley and her famous book)
I hope to enter this in a competition.
I have given Hoarknockle orders to keep his fingers crossed.
Right now most of my brain is elsewhere in Belgium with a cyclist racing Omloop van het Waasland...a 194km race at frightening speed. The cyclist is racing for Fuji Test Team from the Cycling Center. He is my son.

quo vadis?

what a pregnant statement...cliched.
Who knows where this might go?...I am making something and will be entering it for a competition... fun being able to recycle one's own work like a collage. Um yes...I guess I'll have to start producing some real new work soon before I wear these older ones out completely!
Ive recently sent off an application for a grant from the arts board...fingers crossed. It would be fun if I got it.
Meanwhile forging ahead and havent really done anything fantastically creatively new. Sad. But such is life...one has to take care of the mundane and the tedious too.
I have been working away at the logo too. Some fine tuning and revisions. Client had some concerns and I have been smithing the designs a bit more and feel they are getting more refined and improved. Polish.
Good to feel like an artist today again.

time hiccups

Time has not been flowing, rather coming in irregular burps. Which is why my blog has not been regular...all due to the time burps.
I hope time-space continuum has been restored.
Its been busy. Packed my eldest off to Belgium to race with the Fuji Test team at the Cyclingcenter.
Also trying to whip Hoarknockle back into shape by making him ride my indoor bicycle trainer every day. He bleats like a baby.
The wind has been blowing on occasion and that means I am out with my younger boy, holding his equipment while he flies about beneath his large kite with skis on his feet. Exhilaration by proxy... or vicarious prairie skiing.

I have been jerking around rather like a ferret on espresso.
Sometimes everything gets in the way. (its my excuse)
At last have returned to being creative... dusted off my favourite ivory tower and taken refuge in it, making squiggly things on paper and the magical screen connected to the electrical socket. My friend in England likes her logo and now its time to turn it into letterheads and all kinds of things.
This most recent thing is a heading to be on her website.
I just need to lash Hoarknockle again...he is pedalling the generator to produce electricity for my machines. Slacker!
And I want lunch and tea.... NOW!

...I think we've got it!

Sometimes the break through is small yet significant. A subtle movement around a corner gives sudden new perspective and then you see things anew.
After obsessing about aspects of the logo, I sort of lost sight of the goal and ended up trying to force the green marble background to work. Walking away from something is hard, especially when it has presented a challenge. But enough.
I went back to the brief and thought about the function of the logo within the thoughts set out by my client.
One has to think clearly and only focus on the nature of the piece.
This starting to sound terribly zen... maybe it is. Whatever it might seem, it has worked.
Maybe I should approach doing laundry in the same way.
There is beauty in purity.
Now most of the work is done and the client needs to ruminate over the suggestions and examples and make the call. Then the letterhead and other children of the logo icon can be brought forth....I see a procession and pageantry , banners and music... fanfare!
Hmmmm...what is in this tasty herbal tea that Hoarknockle makes?
Which reminds me......

logo developments

The logo continues and has had a few interesting iterations. My friend, the client, loves the lettertype and the design. I am happy!
Its been fun working with this logo/name. I have been tweaking it in al kinds of ways and making it do things for me. When it goes well, its exciting.
The green background in
this image is a photo I took of a bucket of waste paint that was being mixed together before being recycled. The colours and the swirls were enchanting and I took a photo. It rather looks like stone...onyx or green marble.
Back to work!

logo jiggle logic

Some jobs come flying at you out of the blue... this one was one of them...
A dear friend of the family called from London (yes the English city!) and wanted me to redesign her business name and logo.
I don't really do logos, not in the graphic design sense anyway.
After reading her the whole forty page proviso and health warning, she still wanted me to do it, knowing full well that this was not to be anything clean and clinical like any good type software could offer. This would be hand hewn from the finest paper and ink made from 100% natural organic hand grown materials (tended to by children deep in the Abscondian Forests).
She designs fine interiors for refined clients in a rarified atmosphere of elegance and interesting people and also does stupendous floral installations for persons and companies who can afford the last word in excellence. She is to be found at www.cornecopia.com .

There is an elegant atmosphere that oozes down the telephone line from from someone like this, calling from London. I wore my burgundy velvet smoking jacket for the occasion and had Hoarknockle bring me a snifter of Cognac.

The term for this kind of thing is "bespoke". Handcrafted. Original. One of a kind, made to order, only! The logo and lettertype will be entirely, uniquely crafted and not taken from a plastic boil-in-the bag, instant noodle dish.
After some thought and several pencils, I came up with some ideas and started the to and fro which is typical of this bespoke business. I wore a cravat for the occasion and had Hoarknockle smoke a cigarette in a long silver and ivory holder.Outdoors obviously, I cannot abide cigarette smoke!

Tea was Earl Gray and served in the Spode bone china. Was there ever any doubt?

slimmed down

Throw out the clutter; I dont know what I was thinking. Was looking at the image for a while and decided to simplify it. Lower calories. Maybe it was the sound of "Biggest Loser" in the background. I think Hoarknockle was watching, he has a thing for tubbies.

dream dream

After some hard hatching, the image is developing some depth and then I may do some more.
Painter has so many little aspects one finds over time... well, I do. I keep finding things I didnt know were there and they make work easier. There certainly is something about developing an image and seeing it grow...you plunge into it and lose yourself at times.
Thankfully Hoarknockle has me attached to a safety harness and can pull me back if I go in too deep.
Its snowing today...light fluffy like meringue....hmmmmmm meringue.
Time for tea?