Sunday, 8 April 2018

sketchbook Pages

I'm tying to keep on top of my sketchbook challenge; a page every day for a year. We are living in a tiny space for the next few months, so I'm not really able to paint, although I have been into school a few times over the holiday to do a bit. Trouble is it's a 30 mile round trip, so it's not really viable - hence the sketchbook. 
There is no real theme; I'm going wherever, and with whatever, my fancy takes me. It's great fun.
Here are the latest few pages:
 Dorothy Clive's Garden
 Near Oulston Reservoir
 The Roman Road
 Near the Roman Road


 On the way home from Liverpool
 On the way home from Liverpool




 Oulstone Reservoir
 The Roman Road
 The Roman Road

Sunday, 18 March 2018

Deliberate Practise

I can’t paint at the moment, so instead I’m working in a sketchbook. I challenged myself  (starting January 1) to complete a page for every day of the year (this replaced last year’s Fitbit challenge). The book is homemade, and I’m two days ahead of schedule, which is good, because I can’t always find the time to work in it. The upside is a noticeable improvement in my drawing (coupled with a broadening of the materials I work in), although some of the pages are a little ropey. The downside is, I’ve put weight on. So has the dog.
Here are the 79 pages that I’ve completed so far:

Tuesday, 12 December 2017

Seth comes home this weekend.. I'm going to have to clear out of his room.
In the meantime, things change..

Oil on board.
30 x 30cm

Saturday, 9 December 2017


I’m reading a good book by Joanne Harris at the moment, ‘A Pocketful of Crows’, which is a bit of a modern fairytale, and right up my (escapist) street. I was thinking about it today as I walked the dog at Quarry Moor, listening to Fairport Convention. I realised that it reminded me of Reynardine, a traditional folk ballad, or rather, Reynardine reminded me of the book, when it started playing.

I have just bought (unusual for me), a new album; Freedom Highway, by Rhiannon Giddons, which is a fabulous jazzy, folky, bluesy album. There’s a song on it called Birmingham Sunday. It’s a very moving song about the 1963 ku klux klan bombing of a baptist church that killed 4 teenage girls in Birmingham, Alabama. Yes, that’s the same kkk that endorse Trump, and who he has refused to condemn. Anyway, when I listened to this song I recognised the melody ( and I can’t overstate what an achievement that is for me), as being the same as another favourite folk song of mine, The False Bride (great Fairport version).
Driving over to Harrogate this morning, to take some paintings to Silson Contrmpoaray (great gallery - you should go), I was alternatively thinking about  painting, and trying to remember the word that describes creatures that are active during twilight. It wouldn’t come. After delivering the paintings, walking with Hector at Quarry Moor, and a lovely lunch with my lovely in-laws, I drove home. It was getting on in the afternoon, and the sun was starting to wipe its feet before retiring for the evening, hiding behind a bank of cloud,  sending out rays of light through them. As I saw that, I remembered the word - crepuscular ( light beams through late afternoon clouds is called crepuscular light). It would work as a title for this painting I suppose, except it would be s bit pompous. Plus it’s a horrible sounding word to my ear. It’s sounds like it ought to describe a scabby boil.
Anyway, ramble over.
I painted when I got home... but not this one.

Oil on board
30 x 30cm

Tuesday, 28 November 2017