Art in Action 2011

Sometimes life is just too busy to blog and then things get a little out of hand. Art in Action was so busy that for the first two days of being there I found that I still had not wandered around with my camera. Despite arriving early I had so much work that it took all day to hang and then once the doors were opened it just seemed chaotic.

The evenings at the lovely Judy Dyble's with Hannah Willow, Catherine Hyde, Tamsin Abbot, Anji Spangle and Robin. Over the weekend my sister Maxine joined us too, and organised the chaos of the day.

I have more photos and will make a page on my website later but for now this was my stand, or rather, a small part of it.

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And in the Best of the Best tent this is the piece I voted for. I love Karen's work. 

Since being home I have tried to settle to work. I have to finish the cat book, do the cover for City of Dragons, work on the calendar image for KNTR, sign and number and post the calendars, try and organise things for an evening of words and music at Theatr Gwaun in Fishguard on 12th August at 8pm

Hoping for dry weather tomorrow as despite all that I have a wish to ride in the morning on the heavy hoofed Uther or great patience through a valley thick with meadowsweet.

More photos of Art in Action later. Time for bed.

A sky full of birds

It has been a day of birds. Flocks of rook and jackdaw have been tumbling the sky with ragged black wings.

All day I have been thinking and packing.

I have packed a kingfisher, and owl, a bear or two, some paint, paper, brushes, pencils, towels ( you never know when aliens might be around), some wolves, a bowl, badges and bags, cameras and cards and nails and string ( always string). There are things in boxes and bags and bundles, and still I am not done.

Steady rain falls.

I have packed a good heart and hope and expectations, courage and a little foresight, and always, always a good book.

And all of this has bundled into a dragon van for its first big public outing.

Tomorrow I head off toward Oxfordshire and on Wednesday I will be setting up and settling in at Art in Action. Looking forward to settling down to paint.

Some years ago I had a dream of six kingfishers. A few weeks back  painted them, and one of the things I will do at Art in Action is gild them.

And I am please to say that today I was accepted on the "Mumsnet" blogger network. I hear them so often on the radio and usually am very impressed with all that they have to say, so proud to be a part of their blogging network. And very impressed with my friend Meg Rosoff, who is one of their 'featured' bloggers. Her new post is LOL.

Enough distraction. TTFP ( Time to Finish Packing).

Titles

Working steadily, quietly through the day on a large piece to take to Art in Action. I want to try and catch the last light of day or the first light of day in the feathers of an owl's wings.

How much does a title change the way a painting is seen.

I could call this:

Huntier

or

Barn Owl

or I could call it

Hushwing, Bellvoice.

Or I could call it 

Soft Wings Silence Song.

It needs gold leaf, moongold I think. I will work on it a little more then finish it at Art in Action in July. Until then it will sit in my studio and I will watch and wonder, if the owl gets a meal, if the wren escapes to sing another day.

Poetry on a rainwashed day

Days go by. Trying to work through paintings and there are things that have to be done, that need to be done, for visits away. Nicky Potter has been amazingly patient organizing a two week trip around England, ( Manchester, South-end-on Sea, Hackney for the Starlit Festival, Cambridge and Norfolk for the Norfolk Children's Bookshop)and I have to admit that the highlight for me will be working in the story teepee in London Zoo, because afterwards I hope to meet an animal or two, watch a tiger, and talk with some of the keepers maybe.

My painting has been elegantly ordered by the softer and  poetic hour glass and I have been wandering the net looking and learning about hour glass timers, so soon there will be an hour glass shaped posting.

A box arrived with a wonderful delivery from Iris Milward. So beautiful. She made the tile above from the simplest line sketch that I did at Art in Action in July. I love her work and cannot believe that she sells at such amazingly reasonable prices. The words woven in the hares say;

 

The night has a thousand eyes

And the day but one

Yet the light of the bright world dies

With the dying sun.

 

The mind has a thousand eyes

And the heart but one

Yet the light of the whole life dies

When love is done.

 

 

Such a beautiful thing to arrive on a rainy dark day.

 

I painted, as sand slipped through glass, all the time thinking of making painted hour glasses. And maybe a 24 hour glass.

Light and time.

At Art in Action a gentleman stopped in front of my table. He spread his hands in an open gesture, smiled.

"I have to tell you," he said, " I am completely in awe of your work."

What can you say to so open a statement but "thank you."

"What is it that you do?" I asked.

" Oh, me? I'm only a physicist," he replied.

Earlier in the day I had been talking to Judy about rainbows and she told me that scientists had trapped part of a rainbow in a piece of glass. I had begun to worry, for if a butterfly could cause a storm across the world with a flap of its wings what might happen if light were alive in ways we didn't understand and a rainbow went to find and free the part of itself that was trapped. A rainbow dragon. Is it right to trap and enslave light?

I am in awe of physicists and wish that when I was at school I had understood the relationship between art and science better.

Later that day, a rainbow, wild and free, arced across the site at Art in Action.

The links above are to an article in New Scientist and other pages on rainbow trapping. There are almost images of the light, held in its prison if you google 'trapped rainbow'

At Judy's Wizz slept peaceful in places. On the wall the cover art from Talking with Strangers shone. And I have now put a page of images from Art in Action 2010 on my website.

A golden line

Almost at the end of my sketchbook. I have two or three, but this one has lots of small drawings, ideas for paintings, some done, some waiting to be done. I bought it in Broadway in 2002 and was intimidated by its pure pages when I first started working in it, so to begin with I stuck down notes from the children, a note from Robin, a picture of a swan. 

The caption here reads 'love is like walking on a ribbon nine miles high'. I drew the sketch a few days after meeting Robin. Love is dangerous, but after eight years, although I fell I have not yet been hurt. ( Still haven't painted the picture from the sketch though.)

With only a few pages left I have been looking for a new book and so when I heard that Rook's Books were at Art in Action I abandoned my stall for a few minutes and headed for the market place.

So, this is my new book and I am still wondering what to do first. The paper is different to the one I am used to. The endpapers are marbled, beautiful. It weighs heavy, smells wonderful.

And although it was good being at Art in Action, hearing people's reactions to the paintings, teachers comments on the dragon book and how it works in class, meeting a lovely young man and then being told that he had 'grown up on my books' ( oh dear, did I feel old? no, just pleased) it is so good to be home, to walk the hills and to be back to work in the glorious solitude of my studio.

This time last year when I came home I had half a house and no bathroom.

I am counting my blessings.

A hare's breath and the quarter moon.

Still reeling from Art in Action, a busy time blessed with moments of real beauty. As well as art I saw hares in the stuble field, on the way in to the show. Also red kites, owls, a fox, and afterwards egret and heron. So, I have a list of photos so huge to share, and big thanks to give to Judy Dyble ( there is a lovely photo of her in this month's Mojo) who looked after us so well and with such grace, and to Anji who is just a very splendid woman. Also to all the volunteers at Art in Action who make the event the special thing that it is, unique. It is so good to go to a place and feel treasured as an artist rather than exploited. 

The moon shone down on the twilight tents, lit from within, on the evening of the Demonstrator's Supper, and I was glad, so glad that the beautiful glass won, though it was so hard to choose between all the things there that were just so good.

But of all the things made by man that I saw the one thing hat really took my breath away was the hare in the field of gold. 

One car, many dragons, a long road.

Packing up work to take to Art in Action and I have lists of lists.

There is

the table list

the list of paintings

the list of tools

the clothes list

the toiletries list

the books and other reading matter list

the list of drawing boards

the list of things that won't fit on any other list and

the list of things to do before I go.

 

 

 

Music from clay.

I walked across the fields to Adam's studio. He had phoned earlier to say that he was opening the kiln. Swallows flew low over the grass. Further up the field a great red bull cropped grass. I walked quietly and quickly and the grass must have been sweet. He did not seem to notice.

At Adam's studio I was unprepared for the discovery that as the pots cool, once the kiln is open, the glazes sing like a quiet musical box. Beautiful.

 

Most of these pots will be packed up to travel to Art in Action. Two large ones still wait, drying slowly before firing and glazing. And in my garden, the white pot that I saw a few walks back. Like a fallen moon.

In The British Museum there are other Moon Jars.

Paths that seduce the mind to wander

My intention was only to walk to the hill top. Every time I have walked this week my intention has been only to walk to the hill top and then back. I have so much work to do. But then I thought about Adam's pot that had been on the hill top and decided to go and see what remained. The air was all summer silk and butterflies, light slightly muted by the thinnest veil of cloud.

Where the pot had been there was now only mud, a texture of sand, a pool and a trail of what had been clay flowing over rock and lichen. Here and there a shard still held the shape crafted by skilled hand. A broken dragon's egg. In my mind, the memory of the shape that had been there.

From the top of the hill I watched a young red fox glide swift through green bracken and take cover.

It didn't take long. I walked down, intending to head home but instead a path shoulder high with willow herb and the thought of seals led me in a different dirrection, down to the sea. Two seals floated idle, sleeping in the sea. They have begun to gather. Soon the beach will echo to their cries that haunt the mind. Soon there will be seal pups.

The scent of meadowsweet and heather, salt sea and bracken, the sound of the sea and grasshopper warblers, stonechat chipping and skylark all worked to seduce me further away from home.

And all the way I thought about time, and the brief life of the pot, and the stone walls made by hands that are now no more than dust, and the fact that I did have loads of work to do and that another deadline would whistle past my ears, and I had a proposal to write for a book and a contract to read and paintings to gather.

Back home I pushed it all aside, apart from the cover rough for Nursery Rhymes, and began a painting of a red fox. I will take it to Art in Action and gild it there, along with two barn owls.

 Waiting for gold leaf background to go on. Red gold if I have enough.

Walking to work.

First review of The Ice Bear, in the back to school ed. of The Bookseller.

 The Ice Bear Jackie Morris 9781845079680-  ‘This wonderful book by supremely talented artist Jackie Morris is packed with sumptuous illustrations that children will pour over. It is a beautifully written story of a child lost and found, and will be a must of every teacher, as it demonstrates the importance of humans living in harmony with creatures of the wild.’

Always nervous when a new book comes out, though this one isn't published until September. And I quite like the idea of children pouring over one of my books.

Such a beautiful day that a short walk to check on the neighbour's horses became a long walk in sunshine to exercise the dogs in the early morning cool. A footpath runs through my garden and this is the best place to start.

 

Past the raised beds where the slugs have been enjoying my bright beetrrot seedlings. Time to get slug pellets or a shotgun I think. Past the moonjar with shadow roses decorating its pale surface, across the fields to Adam's studio where a rather fine huge white moonjar seems to be sitting on the reject table! Next week we will both be at Art in Action.

Then across the fields to the sea with ears filled with skylark song and butterflies dancing round my feet. The dogs took off running wild, chasing foxes. Across stepping stones and cows had made a pool by the spring. Meadowsweet is blossoming. 

I do love being clothed in the early morning fresh as new silk air. Ravens where delighting in the wind beneath black wings and I realised I missed the raven from The Ice Bear.

Through my mind ran the refrain:

Here am I 

Little jumping Joan.

When nobody's with me

I'm all alone.

Back home, time to work.

1. Make a list.

2. Stretch paper onto every available drawing board.

3. Rough for nursery rhyme cover.

4. Order books for Art in Action.

5. Rough for Jumping Joan and the other blank spaces.

6. Pick up paintings from John, and drawings of hares in white gold frames.

7. Make a list of things to take to Art in Action.

8. Paint.

9. Leave a little space in the day for unexpected happenings.

10. Read.

11. Walk dogs again in the late twilight and watch for owl and fox and badger and bat.

( A power cut put paid to any painting I might have done. The power was off for most of the day, and I struggled to gather any thoughts and put them onto paper as time slipped elusive through my fingers no matter how hard I cupped my hands to catch it.)

Tears, smiles, memories, housework and lists.

I need a list as my focus has meandered off on the pathways of grief.

1. Pick flowers to dress the house. When I look at the windowsills now I see flowers, though I know that some people will only see dirty windows. Soon the sash windows will be refurbished and then they will be clean again, for a while. For now I like my dirty windows. They remind me of this time last year. When I had no roof.

2. Make list.

3. Cross some things off list. ( This was a tip given to me by man in the art shop yesterday to try and give myself a sense of achievement!)

4. Robin Hobb/Lindolm cover roughs x3.

5. Continue with nursery rhymes.

6. Gild partridge and pear.

7. Paint a large owl painting to take to Art in Action to gild.

8. Sweep the studio floor, set the Chicken time Lord and tidy up the studio for 1 hour. 

9. Think about drawing for the rabbit lady.

10. Do powerpoint for school visit and also facebook invite to evening event at school in Hertfordshire.

11. Do artwork for Kids Need to Read Calendar. Rough first.

Outside in the garden ginger cats are curling in sheltered places. In the right hand top of the photo below, where the bench ends, you can just see the jasmine that marks the corner where Kiffer curls beneath. The foxgloves look so beautiful and soon a wave of roses will roof the space. Love-in-the-mist has escaped from the stones and seeded in the grass. He is close to the house.

Today I remembered the time when he climbed up the shelves to try and reach the venison that was defrosting and pulled down and smashed my favorite hand made mugs. I smiled.  The broken china all looked so beautiful smashed on the slate. At the time I was not pleased, but I would give all that and more to have him back here to smash it all again.