I want to do everything. However fleeting an idea, I sometimes end up being convinced that it is the big epiphany I’ve been waiting for that’s going to make it all make sense. And that makes me ridiculously non-coherent as an artist.
I’ve been painting with acrylics all morning, which is something I ain’t done in years. Abstract calm red blue purple floaty misty glowy. Really been enjoying it, and, although they’re not finished yet, I think that they will look good. And god forbid, perhaps the kind of thing that could be commercial, the sort of thing that people may want on their walls?!
Ah, but the painting will be a phase. Last week I decided that crochet was the way forwards. Any suggestions how to deal with this conundrum? Should I really just try and focus my efforts on one area? Or go with my instincts and my heart and flit between everything……. I think I know what I’ll do. Surely everything will just fall into place eventually!
In other news, I baked a loaf of bread this morning. Quite possibly The Best Loaf I have ever made! And, somewhat more exciting- it’s my birthday at the weekend, and we’re going to Aberystwyth! I haven’t been there since graduation in 2011, so am looking forwards to it muchly.
I think there are too many exclamation marks in this post. I hate it when people use too many exclamation marks. Here’s my beautiful bread:
Ta-da! Here’s the finished commissioned drawing (which ended up with more watercolour than originally intended…so I guess it’s a painting?!), for a lovely little beauty salon in Barry. I am quite pleased with her. It’s a very different thing making work for someone else, and not something that I have done much of…. Although I think that there is an embroidery commission coming my way soon, so that could be exciting!
(Peace Lily Lady – Indian ink, fine-liners and water-colour paint)
Rightmove.com has taken over my life, and I am bloody fed up. Just want to move to London already… One day, one day, one day, one day, we will find the ‘right’ place, in the ‘right’ area, the ‘right’ distance from the centre, and for the ‘right’ price. Does this place exist?! Don’t be so impatient and impulsive Emma. You’ll get there won’t you. Anyway.
I started a painting today. It is a bit scary, but a different scary to normal. She hasn’t got any eyes yet, which probably isn’t helping. And I made a truly wonderful loaf of bread. Possibly the best yet, but I say that every time.
I have ‘Happy’ perfume by Clinique. I wear it and therefore I am happy. That’s quite nice. ‘Wear Happy perfume and be happy.’
I feel like I am killing time until something happens. Filling the time up. With felt making and bread baking. I don’t really want to make ‘art’ at the moment. Always drawing though, always. I just haven’t been working on the tricky bits of the project-what-I-should-be-working-on. So that was a little lie. I am making art. Just the easy bits. The non-traumatic bits. Haha. Why oh why bother? Life could be easy. Bloody art. Ah, but I wouldn’t be with out it. I think that perhaps being an artist is one hell of a love/hate relationship. I am getting better at making very thin fragile lacey felt. Which is good. It’s starting to look right. I think I shall start having a look for some studio space in Cardiff. My little flat is constantly a mess of arty crap and it doesn’t much like it. The-job-that-pays-me is going well. It’s very repetitive and gets a bit dull, but the close proximity to concentrated hydrochloric acid and other dangerous substances keeps things interesting. And I get to do a titration which goes fluorescent purple, it’s pretty.
I feel like I had something worthwhile to say.
Some drawings. The first one’s from last week, the second one is a few months old.
Oh, and I am happy to say that I have decided I don’t like Damien Hirst. The butterflies were the best thing. But butterflies are awesome in themselves, so you probably can’t go wrong if you use them in your work. The case that the skull was in was filthy with smudges and fingerprints, which kind of detracted from it! Quite funny. Ha. Take that, ridiculously expensive kitsch art. The exhibition didn’t make me feel excited, and it didn’t make me want to make art. It didn’t feel intelligent. Why all the repetition? Hirst’s obviously been very clever at ‘playing’ the art game, and getting noticed, and making money, which is impressive and to be admired. I just don’t think his art’s as interesting as the story surrounding it all. It’s all a bit daunting, innit?! Christ.