Step we gaily on we go. Heel by Heel and Toe by Toe
Step We Gaily, On we Go, Heel by Heel and Toe by Toe
We are already at the end of our first week. We have just seven weeks left of this four month experience. It has gone incredibly fast.
Between New Year and our first day back I had to come up with a personal project. I fiercely rejected life drawing. I can't see the point and it has no interest for me.
There, I said it...now I am just waiting to be struck down by a wrathful classical artist.
One of our themes is Identity so I dithered over that for a while.
Should I concentrate on a subject I know really well? Me, myself and I? Did I really want to expose myself like that?
What about archetypes? Or portraits?
The museum has a lovely quilt made in the 1990's by twelve women from the village. I bet I could make a lovely art quilt based not on the village but on the women who made that quilt.
I distracted myself by making a couple of artists books roughly on the theme of Identity.
I made a tiny one exploring how we are all different yet all the same.
Then I made another on The Divine Pincode - all about numerology
This one stretched all down the corridor when fully opened!
But sadly neither was going to be worked into a sustained piece of work lasting eight weeks and I was running out of time with just days to go before I had to do a presentation and demonstrate research, sketches and a piece of completed artwork to support my plan. I returned to the doctor to check how my wrist was recovering. That took care of another morning. She asked my if I knew why I fell so often as I am a bit of a notorious 'faller.' It got me thinking about the Metaphysics of shoes and how from the moment we arrive on the planet we wear shoes on our life's journey and mine in this instance were trying to communicate with me. SHOES!!! That was an idea. I would work on shoe stories. Except for me, most people have lots of favourite pairs and stories to go with them. Shoes are memory. Jean Urquhart, my New Year house guest had confessed to being the Imelda Marcos of Ullapool. She adored shoes, had over 100 pairs and had to store some of them in the village as there was insufficient room in her little cottage on Shetland.
Shoes it was then.
I raided the only local charity shop, came away with two full carrier bags of shoes, did twelve pastel drawings, life sized, and formed them into an artist book as my sustained piece of holiday work. Result.
Fingers crossed I could blag the tutors that I could do shoe portraits instead of human ones.
So all this week I have been using oil paint as instructed and painting my blue trainers.
Jean has sent me her favourite red stilettos.
I've done one and I am going to start a series of four more tomorrow.
Perhaps I can persuade her four year old grand-daughter to model them for me. Now here's an idea.
We are already at the end of our first week. We have just seven weeks left of this four month experience. It has gone incredibly fast.Between New Year and our first day back I had to come up with a personal project. I fiercely rejected life drawing. I can't see the point and it has no interest for me.
There, I said it...now I am just waiting to be struck down by a wrathful classical artist.
One of our themes is Identity so I dithered over that for a while.
Should I concentrate on a subject I know really well? Me, myself and I? Did I really want to expose myself like that?
What about archetypes? Or portraits?
The museum has a lovely quilt made in the 1990's by twelve women from the village. I bet I could make a lovely art quilt based not on the village but on the women who made that quilt.
I distracted myself by making a couple of artists books roughly on the theme of Identity.
I made a tiny one exploring how we are all different yet all the same.
Then I made another on The Divine Pincode - all about numerology
This one stretched all down the corridor when fully opened!
But sadly neither was going to be worked into a sustained piece of work lasting eight weeks and I was running out of time with just days to go before I had to do a presentation and demonstrate research, sketches and a piece of completed artwork to support my plan. I returned to the doctor to check how my wrist was recovering. That took care of another morning. She asked my if I knew why I fell so often as I am a bit of a notorious 'faller.' It got me thinking about the Metaphysics of shoes and how from the moment we arrive on the planet we wear shoes on our life's journey and mine in this instance were trying to communicate with me. SHOES!!! That was an idea. I would work on shoe stories. Except for me, most people have lots of favourite pairs and stories to go with them. Shoes are memory. Jean Urquhart, my New Year house guest had confessed to being the Imelda Marcos of Ullapool. She adored shoes, had over 100 pairs and had to store some of them in the village as there was insufficient room in her little cottage on Shetland.
Shoes it was then.
I raided the only local charity shop, came away with two full carrier bags of shoes, did twelve pastel drawings, life sized, and formed them into an artist book as my sustained piece of holiday work. Result.
Fingers crossed I could blag the tutors that I could do shoe portraits instead of human ones.
So all this week I have been using oil paint as instructed and painting my blue trainers.
Jean has sent me her favourite red stilettos.
I've done one and I am going to start a series of four more tomorrow.
Perhaps I can persuade her four year old grand-daughter to model them for me. Now here's an idea.
Comments
Post a Comment