Resurrection.

The last few years have been tumultuous. Monumental. Exhausting, exhilarating and, quite frankly, a tad ridiculous. I began this blog almost 10 years ago, bloody determined to become the next Tracey Emin. Oh real life, how you changed those burning plans…

Muddling through the last decade, I have metamorphosed from a rebellious, gloomy, eccentric art student to… a creative, optimistic, and still-eccentric primary school teacher, who is blissfully married to a wonderful soul (found during those chaotic art school days). I fled the monotonous rolling green hills of Wales, to discover my very own patch of land in beautiful Richmond upon Thames, London. And here I will stay. Roots firmly planted.

(It awes me that I am somehow old enough to reflect on the last decade of my life, every moment of which was lived through grown-up-eyes! I have noticed one infallible truth – I am immeasurably more content and confident at 29, than I was at 19. A worthy trade for a few grey hairs!)
This blog has a new meaning. It is a resurrection. I need a way to focus my creativity, a platform to consider my tangled thoughts and flickers of inspiration. The antics of a lapsed artist. It is an attempt to rekindle my love for the art world, to resurrect my own creative ambitions. Art was my first love. Although it has spent these last few years waiting patiently in the wings, I am now settled and grounded; the time is right to rejuvenate, rekindle, resurrect. Let’s see where it leads.

 

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Work in Progress – My Easel

easel-wip-wp

A fairly bad photograph of how my easel looks at this very moment in time….

I went back to some old (lacklustre) paintings that needed a little cheering up, things that had never quite felt finished…¬†Some have been greatly improved, I fancy! Some – there is, quite simply, no hope. Into the bin with you.

Always satisfying to be able to rescue something, to bring a painting back to life. Proper pictures of resurrected paintings later this week (she says).

Don’t hold me to that.