The World Wide Scribble Pad


The One that started it all….

OK Enough is enough!  It’s been too long since my last post. I’ve had a few changes lately which has meant pulling out some old paintings, organising art stuff and documents etc. The tacky unglamorous side of art.  It was then that I realised what the original purpose of this blog was  – someone wanted to buy a painting, I had no website and my storage system was pretty much non-existent.

So I began the laborious task of putting each painting up, making notes on series but then I got a little excited.  Instead of scribbling notes about exhibitions in my sketchbooks, I began blogging. It was a huge worldwide scribble pad that visitors could like.

I helped friends set up their blogs, began making art quizzes and photographing.  In the sorting I have come across paintings I had forgotten and sketches that brought back memories of places and people.

Rocks Day 65- memories of places...

Rocks Day 65- memories of places…

I haven’t blogged for a while, my life has taken a turn recently. I miss blogging, I miss painting and yesterday I could feel the desperate need for drawing returning. I don’t know if that means I am getting better or trying to fill a need. Either way – charcoal and gouache is a good remedy and a nice way to scribble on my world-wide sketchbook.

 

 

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Green Cows and Gorillas

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This painting reared it’s horned head recently. It’s titled Green Cow on 3 Hills. To me, that’s exactly what it is. To others maybe it’s a mess or a field of green locomotives driven by Jesus.  I have had conversations with viewers about what they see. Like most abstract artists your point of initial contact is embedded firmly in reality but becomes a departure. I don’t really mind what people see in my paintings but the title reminded me of another painting I had done.

 

This painting was done years apart from the other but the person who has it thought it looked a little like a cow’s backside. It does. And freakishly a green cow.  It is in fact shapes from heavy machinery on Cockatoo Island.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here’s another. Based on rocks and once again plain as day to me. This was my absolute favourite painting of all time – the one I had felt was a measure against all others. It felt right. I was so pleased with this one that I indeed hung it in my home (for quite a while) until…someone saw a gorilla. And freakishly a green gorilla.

 

 

 

Am I accidentally painting green animals?

 

Better a Clever Enemy than a Stupid Friend

I had this wonderful image all ready for my post yesterday.  The Gardener and the Bear – a page from the manuscript of the Anvar-i Suhayli (the Lights of Canopus) by al-Kashifi (detail) Iran c. 1550-75 from the British Museum. Once again from that wonderful book on Grayson Perry The Tomb of the Unknown Craftsman.

The story goes in reward for the man’s kindness, the bear seeks to kill a fly on his face with a stone. The inscription reads “A clever enemy is better than a stupid friend.” Let’s just say I feel like a gardener this week and this fable seems to reek of rock.  I have taken to the paintbrush today at last but it was to paint a pot.

The moral, Stop painting pots, I need to get out of the garden before someone chucks that stone!

This is my painting of a rock. It has not yet hit me in the face.

Rock Series

This series of works done over a period of time came from a variety of places.  I was somewhere where it was working and finding my way following a stint at Bundanon then a period of upheaval, both personally and art-wise meant that I was trying new approaches at the same theme.  I was constantly trying to look back and draw from that same place when my painting was good (or felt good).  Some of the new approaches meant a change in palette and medium. I look at some of these works and wish I hadn’t done them but we all have the good, the bad and the ugly.

The majority of these works as well as some drawings became my first solo exhibition, I dubbed it the “No Frills” exhibition.  I didn’t want it advertised, no opening etc.  Maybe I knew that I wasn’t ready at that stage or just downright ashamed.