Ramblings of a (very!) amateur artist

‘How seasonal’

A slightly shorter one this time. I’ve found myself getting into a bit more of a rhythm in working on various art pieces. Some I like better than others. The ones in this blog weren’t my favourites but it was the ‘doing’ rather than the result that counted.

I’m going to start by explaining the title of the blog, which also happens to be the title of one of the pieces. This was the response I was given when I said I wanted to do a drawing of autumnal leaves. I mentioned in an earlier blog post that I really like oranges and yellows so wanted to create something bright and vibrant. Hearing ‘how seasonal’ in reply to my plans was pretty hilarious. The sarcasm was 100% spot on. And maybe that’s my way of being a bit ‘topsy turvy’ at the moment (as mentioned in an earlier lockdown post in April).

Speaking of ‘topsy turvy’, I don’t think I’m the only one. I received an email yesterday with some recipe recommendations. I think the theme was something along the lines of ‘cheap and healthy’. Thing is, one of the recipes was a winter vegetable pie and another said that it was a great dish for ‘when the nights start to draw in’. Not being funny but I thought we were still heading towards summer…?

Though I enjoy cooking, I wouldn’t say it’s a strength so maybe that’s enough said about that. Before I started my ‘seasonal’ picture I looked inside my depleting art cupboard. I’ve started to try and use up things that have been sat around for ages. I have no idea where they came from, but I have these small boards that I thought I could use for the drawing. I planned my work, decided on the colours (I thought a turquoise background would contrast against the red leaves nicely) and started it off. About a third of the way through I became a little disinterested. This was a foolproof sign that I wasn’t ‘bought into’ the idea anymore. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it just wasn’t looking the way I’d intended. I finished it off with some more definition by using pencil over the top of the red leaves but it still wasn’t to my taste. I also put it in a frame that I thought could suit it. I think that helped.

‘How seasonal’ – a little bit topsy turvy to say the least!

As that hadn’t been quite the success I’d hoped for, I then decided to do another acrylic painting. The focus would be a branch of a blossom tree. Definitely more seasonal!

I prefer this finished piece to ‘How seasonal’, but it did take quite a few forehead wrinkles to get there. I was making it up as I went along and it wasn’t working the way I’d hoped. I think this reminded me that sometimes a photo or an observation can sometimes not look quite right. And that a good thing to do when recreating something like this is to make up for its flaws. In this case, I initially clustered the blossom around individual branches but this just ended up looking like blossom sausages. Nobody wants that! So I ended up filling in the gaps. From a distance (currently viewing it on the sofa from the fireplace is enough of a test!) I doubt anyone would be able to work out what the hell it is. Up close, I actually quite like it.

Like I mentioned at the beginning, doing these pieces was the bit that mattered. I reflected on the final products and concluded that it had been useful to try out a few more techniques and work out what I don’t like as well as what I do. It had definitely been enjoyable to complete these while listening to podcasts and having a little tipple. So the experience really outweighed the result. It was also nice to dedicate some more pieces to my usual themes: the outdoors, nature and wildlife.

‘The Wave’

A couple of weeks ago, some people at work thought it would be a good idea to set a challenge. They tasked the team with creating something that represents their ‘daily commute’ to work. Like a lot of people, we’re all working from home. It was supposed to be inventive, creative, tongue in cheek.

I was amazed by the variety put forward in the end – we had people making film-trailer-type videos, people were using their photography skills, there was fancy dress. It was a real eye-opener to see the hidden talents of my colleagues and I thought it was about time I shared my creativity too (I briefly hinted at this at the end of my last post in April).

I didn’t really fancy making a video. I just couldn’t work out how to make it funny. Instead, I thought I’d draw something and that this would be a little bit different to my usual work…

I’m a bit of a ghost when it comes to social media. I still have a Facebook account but I don’t think I’ve posted anything on there since 2018…! I do, however, flick through my timeline every day. Over the past few months I’ve noticed some of the cartoon storyboards published on there by the Wellcome Collection’s illustrator. They’re short, snappy and different. With a cartoon, there’s no pressure to be perfect and I realised that was exactly what I wanted.

I also wanted my ‘daily commute’ to have a bit of humour. So I thought about the sorts of habits I’d fallen into since lockdown began. One key thing that I never did before all of this is that I water the garden pretty much every day. And the house plants. Ok, I thought, I can work with that.

Another habit – I stare out of the window trying to spot cats. A lot. I’ve wanted to get a rescue cat for quite a long time and kept putting it off. As soon as lockdown began, I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. I was one of those painful people (no doubt) who emailed the Blue Cross the weekend of lockdown, politely asking whether any cats needed to be rehomed. I didn’t expect a reply. I didn’t get one.

As well as looking out for cats, I’ve also been mesmerised by the birds in the garden. They’re usually all sparrows but I could swear I’ve seen blue tits and a goldfinch too – part of the lockdown delirium? Turns out, these sparrows are pretty hungry beasts so I’ve been filling up the bird feeder multiple times a week since working from home.

I had the pieces of the puzzle. So, I contemplated, how do I pull them together? What’s the common theme? I knew straight away and wrote down an alternative title for the cartoon storyboard: The Daily Commute of a Needy Northerner. It was perfect. A completely appropriate satire of my current existence. The cartoons and captions flowed straight onto the paper and I created my piece to share with the team. It had been a very different thing for me to draw and I had enjoyed it thoroughly.

Alternative title – *The Daily Commute of a Needy Northerner*

Now, the real question. What has this got to do with a wave. Well, I had kind of assumed that drawing a cartoon storyboard for work would just be a one-off for me. It had served its purpose and I’d enjoyed the experience. But, this week, I’ve felt a nagging that I just couldn’t shake off.

It’s amazing how we process and experience change. From Day 1, I’ve often experienced a very odd sensation when important changes have come into effect or when groundbreaking information has been shared. I’ve suddenly pictured a huge wave, with people riding it. As soon as the change happens, I feel it starting to crash but I never see where it lands. It’s an odd image. On the one hand, scary, uncertain, unpredictable and on the other, reassuring.

I even had a dream about a huge wave. That was pretty terrifying. More so than the feeling I’ve experienced while conscious! I hadn’t quite realised how many times I’d ‘felt’ this until earlier in the week. And I decided I just had to draw it out – in the same format as my ‘daily commute’. So that’s what I did. And that’s how The Wave came to be.

Dealing with denial

I think it’s probably safe to say that we’ve all dealt with denial at times over the past few weeks. Since I last wrote, I’ve experienced denial in a number of different ways:

Week 1 of lockdown was just outright denial. Pure and simple. If I remember correctly, I was in denial about being in denial at times too…

Week 2 was a little more abstract, with me wondering whether we were about to have the most outrageous April Fools Day EVER. I imagine that would’ve probably created a far worse problem though…

Week 3 included some moments of acceptance but I did at one point think that the only logical explanation for our current situation was that I was about to wake up from a nightmare…

Week 4 had a little less of all of this. But I wouldn’t say denial had been fully ‘dealt’ with.

And now we’re well into Week 5. The usual ups and downs are here again and each day seems to bring more problems and uncertainty. Things that there wasn’t capacity to worry about 4 weeks ago are now starting to be talked about. In the sector I work in, thoughts about which universities will make it and which won’t are starting to emerge. Don’t get me wrong. I’m incredibly lucky my loved ones and I still have a) our health and b) a job and I certainly don’t take any of that for granted. Each day just seems to bring a new stream of complex problems into the mix.

As I write this, I think I’m experiencing one of these ‘downs’ so I hope this doesn’t all sound too negative! I wrote at the end of March about some ideas for art pieces and boy have these helped me through the last few weeks – so, time for some positives…

I started with the Brent Goose which I shared in a post earlier in April. I then moved onto something that I thought captured the mood of the time. The lonely, dilapidated windmill on the barren mere. Although it looks quite sad, I was really drawn to the windmill in the flesh and, in its own, striking way, I thought it carried a lot of beauty. In contrast to its surroundings, it stood out as a reflection of a time gone by – quite a useful reminder in these difficult times that life does (and will) go on. I tried to keep my version simple. I haven’t always been good at that but I’m learning that simple is often best, especially with watercolour. I started with a very light purple wash for the background and then focused on some core colours for the scene: beige, brown and grey. I added a bit more detail afterwards with some black paint and a brown pencil crayon.

Although I enjoyed painting the windmill, I wanted to focus on something a bit more vibrant next. So I looked at what materials I had left in the cupboard. I found some A5 canvas blocks that had been sitting in various cupboards for donkey’s years and I thought it was about time I used one! So I grabbed some acrylic paint and started visualising a bluebell wood. I really wasn’t sure how this one was going to pan out but I enjoyed mixing the various greens, blues and whites together to create the background. After moaning to a number of people – and my partner many times – that I was worried I was going to ‘ruin’ it, I finally took the plunge and added in the tree trunks. This was unknown territory for me but I was pleased with the result. Better still, the whole experience of painting with acrylics really cleared my mind from the stresses of the day.

And finally the lighthouse at Happisburgh. I wanted to use a fine liner for this one. I’d really enjoyed using pen when completing the goose so thought I’d have a bash at the lighthouse with it. What always gets me when I use pen is that it really feels like you’re discovering something. The lines are so striking against the background that it doesn’t really feel like you’ve created them yourself. Again, a fabulous way to clear a stressed brain!

I’ve even started to share some of these pieces with my colleagues now. This isn’t something I ever thought I’d do. The situation we find ourselves in has bizarrely opened up some unusual opportunities to get to know each other. It’s an example of an ‘up’ that counters the flurry of ‘downs’. And that can’t be a bad thing. I’m also really pleased that some of my family are now having a go at a bit of art. I think it’s important to remind ourselves that life continues to go on and, unlike the dilapidated windmill, time hasn’t yet withered our wellbeing beyond repair.

If my liiife is for Brent…

My last blog post from 22nd March 2020 became outdated even quicker than I expected. I think I mentioned that some National Trust places and RSPB reserves were still open for people to walk around? They all shut the next day. After the government update that Monday evening, we all plunged into ‘lock-down’. Note-to-self: make sure to mentally prepare for any update taking place from 8pm onwards in future. Oh wait….

The last couple of weeks have been hard – and I know lots of people have had it much harder – but on the plus side there really has been more time to get creative and I’ve tried to make the most of it by focusing on the pieces I planned in my last post. But there’s really no point in rushing (we’ve literally never had more time) so I’ve only completed one of them so far: the Brent goose, inspired by a visit to Titchwell Marsh.

The finished Brent goose (fine liner pen on watercolour)

For those Dido fans among us, the title of this post may look familiar – it’s a (potentially outrageous) corruption of a line in ‘Life for rent’. Again, like last time, it’s a lyric that just hasn’t left my head the whole time I’ve been working on the piece. Now, to explain it.

Scratch that. Slight tangent to start with. I’ve started to wonder what topsy-turvy art is going to appear during the current crisis (just one of the thousands of thoughts zooming around my head at the moment). I always remember the time I saw an English Civil War woodcut back when I studied history – ‘The World turn’d upside down’ – that reflected the disorder of the time. My piece was not inspired by this and is comparatively more orthodox in its style, but, you never know, maybe my other pieces will be influenced by this approach. I think the most topsy-turvy thing I’ve seen so far in our current situation is from the fashion world with bras being repurposed into designer masks… watch this space I suppose!

An example of English Civil War ‘topsy-turvy’ artwork

Moving onto the Brent goose then. I started off as planned with a blue/green watercolour background. I decided at the last minute to add a bit of a beige beach as well. I didn’t want the goose to be floating in the air – it deserved better than that. I then thought back to my art lessons from school. I remembered that there are lots of different things you can do with fine liner pens so I’ll focus on each of the main techniques I used in turn.

Crosshatch: I delved straight in by focusing on the goose’s face and started with the crosshatch technique. Crosshatch is where you draw lines in one direction and then draw lines across them in the other direction. The closer the lines are together, the darker the result and this is what you can use to add shadow and shade to a piece. I found that this was my preferred technique out of the many I revisited.

Crosshatch technique on the face – not forgetting the importance of the eye *(see blog post from 28th Feb 2020)*!

Light and shade using the crosshatch method

Spirals: Not sure whether this is a technical term. As much as I enjoyed the crosshatch, I thought that the goose would benefit from a bit of variety. So I tried out some swirls (or spirals). I used a slightly thicker fine liner pen – I have pens ranging from 0.05mm to 0.8mm – and this gave it a bit more definition. To be honest, using a different pen (I used a 0.2mm for the crosshatch) was not really out of choice. I had no idea that watercolour paper/watercolour paint DESTROYS fine liner pens. As much as I liked the finished result, I cannot afford to replicate this exact approach ever again!

The spiral approach leading to the goose’s leg. Also note the dots above…

Dots: Again, I doubt this is the technical name for this approach but it basically does what it says on the tin. Lots of dots. Dots, dots and more dots. I’d argue that this is the hardest one to get the balance of light and shade right and is definitely the most time-consuming. It has its place, but I quickly realised that this isn’t my favourite and even patched up an area with crosshatch instead because I really wasn’t happy with how it was going.

I didn’t like using dots on the tail so replaced it with crosshatch

Adding more dots to the goose’s wing to make it darker – this took FOREVER

In addition to these three techniques, I also used a thicker pen to do some lines around the feet, beak and on its wing. Overall, it made me realise how much I enjoy doing pen drawings and I’m looking forward to trying out this again on normal paper – hopefully this won’t destroy the pens! And, just a tip, you don’t really need proper fine liners for this sort of stuff. Ordinary biros or even pencils, if you prefer, are great at creating these sorts of drawings. So, while a lot of us have endless indoor time on our hands, why not have a go…

Finally, on a broader note, I still believe the natural world can have a positive impact on wellbeing at the moment, even though our access to it is somewhat restricted. My partner and I went on our short local walk yesterday and saw lots of goldfinches in the trees and we saw a buzzard flying through town when we went for some shopping earlier in the week. So although we have to stay inside more at the moment, don’t forget that life goes on and nature is always open.

My my my my corona….

Sorry. This corrupted lyric hasn’t left my head for many weeks now. Every moment I hear or see an update on the virus, it pops in there and won’t leave. Those who know me are aware that I have an annoying tendency to ruin songs… The most outrageous being a conglomerate of a well known nursery rhyme and a much-loved Adele song. For another day, maybe. In this case, I know I wasn’t the first – I heard a reference to it on the radio.

But seriously, I promise I’m not belittling what’s going on at the moment. The truth is, I’m scared. Just like many people. I’m scared for the people who will battle to survive the virus. I’m scared for my elderly relatives. I’m scared about the mounting pressure on my family. I’m scared for my beautiful little town and its independent shops and pubs. I’m scared for all of the people who have lost their jobs. As someone who works at the social-mobility-end of the HE sector, I’m scared for all of the young people whose futures might now be dashed by the turmoil. And, (selfishly) probably most of all, I’m scared at the prospect of not leaving the house. All in all, I think there’s a lot to be scared about.

Something this week did give me a bit of hope and perspective though. Unlike my other posts, I’m not going to talk about something I’ve already created. Instead, I’m going to focus on the inspiration behind some of the pieces I have in mind for the future. You see, my partner and I were very, very fortunate to spend the week in a cottage in Norfolk by the coast. When we arrived, it was ‘business as usual’. When we left, the pub across the road had closed indefinitely. So I think it’s safe to say that we have been beyond lucky.

A huge highlight of the trip was the amount of wildlife we saw. From the various fens, beaches, meadows, woods and villages we walked through in the local area, we saw a whole range of flowers, birds and mammals. We were even lucky enough to see some more unique species including a bearded tit, marsh harriers, seals and a bittern.

Now, I should say that we aren’t proper wildlife spotters or anything like that. We do have a decent(ish) pair of binoculars but the truth is that we just really like walking (normally with a pint of ale or cider at the end, but we’ll make do!) So what this week reminded me of is the amount of wildlife you can see on a local walk if you really look. Most of the time, if I’m honest, I’m in my own little world when I walk around where we live in the Midlands. But I realised the true enjoyment of being in the moment while we were in Norfolk, taking in the local fauna and flora.

So, the pieces that these sights have inspired. Well, as I’ve said, they’re not created yet – and might therefore change dramatically – but I have some starting points based on what I saw over the week:

A bluebell woodland painted on canvas with acrylics (inspired by the grounds of Anglesey Abbey)
A watercolour background of greens/blues with a pen drawing of a Brent goose (a beautifully bold black and white bird seen at Titchwell Marsh)
A pencil drawing of a lighthouse set in a cliff top (inspired by a 13-mile beach walk from Mundesley to Heppisburgh and back)
A watercolour painting of a dilapidated windmill in the middle of a marsh (seen at Horsey Mere)

Seeing these animals, plants and scenery – and being inspired to draw and paint them – really did bring home to me the importance of making the most of nature for as long as you are fit and well enough to do so. Obviously it’s important to be responsible at this time and I imagine it’s likely I will have to confront my fear of staying indoors for a significant period of time at some point. But I fully intend to make the most of the outdoors in my local area for as long as I can and I suppose a bonus is that I now have lots of things to be getting on with if self-isolation does come knocking!

So please remember at this challenging time that life does go on and that the beauty of the outdoors is still there. You can find it on your doorstep in parks and small, locally-maintained wildlife areas. You can also find it in your own garden or even online. Hopefully I’ll be inspired with even more ideas from the outdoors (especially now that pub crawls are out of the question!) and some of them should come to life over the next few weeks. I’ll be sure to post about them when they do. For now, keep well, stay safe and continue to enjoy what nature brings.

Links that might be of interest

I appreciate that the guidance is changing all of the time, but these links might be useful. Remember to stay local as much as you can:

National Trust (countryside and coasts are open) – https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/features/coronavirus-faqs #everyoneneedsnature @nationaltrust

RSPB (reserves are open) – https://www.rspb.org.uk/our-work/rspb-news/news/stories/coronavirus/ #natureisopen @Natures_Voice

Find your local wildlife trust – https://www.wildlifetrusts.org/find-wildlife-trust

Approaching ‘negative time’

During a particularly busy period at work last week, I realised that I was nearly in negative time. My grandma’s birthday was fast approaching and I still hadn’t sorted out a card or a birthday present. I had planned to make her a card, but there was a real temptation now to go for a home-delivery-type option so that I didn’t disappoint.

I’ve tried to get into a rhythm of making cards for family and friends and while my fingers were hovering over the URL for a well-known online card manufacturer, the guilt was building a little – would she be expecting a handmade card??? I eventually decided it just had to be done. I worked it out. I needed to start it on Monday, complete it on Tuesday and post it on Wednesday. That was the only way it would arrive by Friday. Luckily, I’d already been inspired by something that I could work into the design – the beautiful blossom on the trees…

I’m definitely a spring/summer person. I crave the longer days and the new life starting to emerge. I can’t wait for the trees to bud and for the bulbs to spring to life. I’m lucky enough to have a cherry tree in the garden and I can’t wait to see that blossom in the coming months. And as for spring bulbs, I’ve tried my hand at nurturing some of them to life… more on that later!

So the starting point for the card was the idea of a blossoming tree. But I fancied trying to make it ‘un-lifelike’. At the moment, the blossom I’ve seen on the trees has been white in colour. I was using a card made out of watercolour paper. I have yet to master white when it comes to watercolours – that’s a ‘plaster for another day’*. Instead, I thought about the colours that might look vibrant and bold together. I went for yellow and orange for the ‘wash’ and painted the skeleton of the tree in pale brown. I then added purple for the blossom, followed by pinks, reds and yellows on top. I finished it off with some grey to add definition to the trunk. I had pencil crayons at the ready just in case I needed to patch anything up but for the first time EVER I thought it looked good enough without some pencil-style enhancement.

The finished card – an ‘un-lifelike’ blossom tree

Turning this around so quickly reminded me of how enjoyable and straightforward making cards can be. I’d had a go at this over the Christmas period last year. My thinking was that I wanted to send cards but didn’t see the point if they were just going to be thrown straight in the bin. I thought that if I made a card then maybe, perhaps, potentially the recipient would keep it. Whether that happened, I have literally no idea but it’s the thought that counts right?! Plus, one of the designs made it onto my wall!

The Christmas card design that made it onto my wall

And what present did I get my grandma I hear you ask? Well, I went with the online option for that. I bought her a lovely bunch of flowers. And this brings us back to the plants. Another half-hearted hobby of mine is trying to try to grow things. My track record is appalling. Admittedly, I was a little lazy when it came to planting the spring bulbs (I definitely didn’t plant them at the right depth) and I’m a little too loving with my indoor plants (I overwatered an orchid… who does that!?) Having said that, I was over the moon when a primrose emerged in the garden and I’m hopeful about some kitchen herbs now. I need all the help I can get though. Pray for me.

My recent indoor plant purchases – will I manage to keep them alive!?

*Refers to a saying I have with a colleague at work relating to ‘ripping the plaster off’. If there’s a task we don’t want to do immediately (even though it would ‘rip the plaster off’), we’ll say that it’s a ‘plaster for another day’

“It’s him. The eye”

Who knew there was so much in an eye. Yes, it’s a very intricate organ and an essential component of the body – any body. But who knew that it could make or break a picture.

I had no idea until I decided to draw my great aunt something. I’d left buying a birthday present for her a bit too late (my bad!) so I thought I’d do a drawing. This is a few years ago and I decided to play it safe by drawing a bird using pencil crayon. I opted for a robin.

When I’d finished, I felt something didn’t quite feel right about the picture. The body looked pretty lifelike and my great aunt seemed to like it so I wasn’t too bothered. It didn’t come to me straight away, but seeing that picture a number of times since, I realised what it was. The robin’s cold, dead eye immediately drew me in. The poor thing.

The poor robin, in purgatory on my great aunt’s wall

I ummed and ahhed over what I could have done to rescue this poor creature from a lifetime of purgatory. Pinned up on my great aunt’s wall, it’s colourful, vibrant feathers suggested life but the poor eye showed it for the sad thing it was. In all that time I didn’t have a lightbulb moment – clearly there was nothing I could have done to save it.

Fast forward to last year. I drew another bird. A female mallard. This was also vibrant and colourful and I enjoyed using pencil crayon again to do the feathers. I cut some corners with the detail and the experience overall was enjoyable – though my overall lack of motivation meant it took me a lifetime to finish it! When I completed the face, I noticed something instantly. It brought me back to memories of the poor dead robin. The eye.

Thankfully my duck, unlike the robin, actually looked alive and well. And this was all because of something I thought up until that point was so insignificant. Just a tiny white dot in the eye. The lightbulb had arrived. How ridiculous that such a tiny thing could transform a picture. The power of the eye.

More recently, I drew a goldfinch. I immediately made a mental note that the most important thing I needed to get right was the eye – I didn’t want to have another ‘robin incident’. It had certainly been a lesson learnt. I don’t think the goldfinch was quite as successful as the mallard (full of life!) but it was certainly better than my great aunt’s robin.

The Goldfinch – I had already learnt a valuable lesson

Turns out that while I was looking through my old artwork, I had even known this as a GCSE student. I’d used a fine liner to do a study of an eye – a female mallard’s eye no less – and there it was. Looking right back at me. The white dot. I suppose I’ve learnt more important things since then and that was ‘non-essential knowledge’ but it would’ve been really useful to have remembered this every time I was confronted by the poor robin over the years!

Ok, about the title of this blog post. I feel this needs a bit of an explanation. When jotting down a first draft, a quote from Lord of the Rings kept repeating itself in my head. For those who know, it’s when Frodo and Sam first enter Mordor. Frodo’s remark (think ‘say what you see’) is “It’s him. The eye” – niche? Yes. Should I get a life? Probably!

My GCSE studies of a female mallard – the white dot on the eye stands out in all it’s glory!

Cathedral’s Express Service

I had a go at using something recently that I haven’t tried out since GCSE art – acrylic paint. After speaking to a friend over the weekend, I was inspired to create something from my mind. Or, rather, something influenced by the colours and images around me…

My reaction when he said I should do this was ‘I can’t create things from my mind though’. However, he pointed out something very important. Pure creation is impossible. We all use what’s around us to influence our ideas. I knew this, but had never thought about it in relation to my artwork. My usual go-to piece of work is copying images (particularly of birds!) from photos – I still make them my own, but I can always keep looking at the image to check I’ve done things ‘correctly’. When something just comes from your own head then it’s far more risky! My friend’s suggestion – make a note of things that I’ve seen around me and create a mental (or physical) moodboard.

An image of a skyline similar to the one I saw on social media – the ‘City of Dreaming Spires’

So I had a think. I have a lot of materials in a cupboard upstairs that need using – particularly canvases. Perhaps I should use one of those. The only thing I’d be comfortable using on a canvas is acrylic paint and I had some of that too so that was a big tick. Now, the problem with acrylics is that I’m very out of practice and, in my view, wasn’t that good at using them back in the day anyway. So, I channeled my friend and thought about what I did like about the GCSE art I used to do – I really liked impressionism. Fab. We’re starting to get somewhere.

This encouraged me to start thinking about the background in more detail. I decided I wanted to use the colours that I’d recently seen on a piece of literature at work – a really vibrant orange, mixed with yellows and reds. And I really like blues and purples so I thought maybe I could find a way to blend these together.

Now the content (and a sketch was needed!) I saw someone post a really impressive skyline that they’d painted on social media recently. My reaction: I could never do that. But then I thought that perhaps a silhouetted skyline would work well on the background I had in mind. It was pretty obvious to me about which skyline I’d pick. It was always going to be Oxford (the ‘City of Dreaming Spires’)…

But I was a bit conflicted about this. I wanted to paint something onto this colourful background that harboured warmth and beauty and it’s true that I have many very happy memories of the city. It’s where I had my first full-time job and it’s where I met my partner. And we still enjoy going back to our favourite haunts – it’s a real treat! But it’s also a place of a more trying time of my life. It’s where I ‘grew up’ as a university student and (ironically) learnt that perfectionism wasn’t feasible anymore. The ‘City of Dreaming Spires’ in this sense was a very daunting place.

A quick sketch to help me plan the piece

Although I still had the more positive angle on my radar when I started painting the background, I realised that the stress and turmoil I endured could also also be seen. Somehow, I’d done what I said to my friend I couldn’t possibly do: I’d actually created something. And, what’s more, I’d created something that was open to interpretation. On the one hand, I feel the use of the colours (many of which are my favourites) conveys the warm, happy memories I associate with the city. On the other hand, the image also undeniably looks like the city has been engulfed by a fiery torrent. Completely unintentional and yet so reflective of my internal conflict!

As for the title… I wasn’t going to give it a title (not really my bag), but something popped into my head when I finished the painting. I had to travel quite a bit when I worked at Oxford and that meant I often had to catch an early train. It always tickled me that there was a Great Western Railway service around 7.50am titled the ‘Cathedrals Express Service’ which went to London Paddington. It was a notoriously unreliable service, was a mouthful for the poor automated voiceover to say and was a pretty uncomfortable journey. Yet it invoked something that Oxford is certainly familiar with – pure pretentiousness!

The final piece – *Cathedral’s Express Service*

Why would I bother?

I’ve been encouraged (code: pestered) to start an art blog for a little while now… My reaction previously being somewhat dismissive – why would I bother??? But, you never know. Perhaps some people would be interested in what I have to say.

A school sketchbook saved by my mum – I think I was in Year 10

My change of heart came from an unexpected place following a conversation with my mum last year. With a lot on her plate, I asked her about what she does for her. Not what she does for anyone else, but what she does for her. She confided in me at this moment something I had never – in my entire 27 years of existence – known about. It turns out that she had always wanted to learn how to paint. So, I bought her a gift voucher for Christmas to spend on an art course.

My mum is yet to spend this voucher (and lord knows she better had!) but she did start drawing in her spare time and even told me last week that she was going to be taking part in BB4’s Life Drawing Live! – she’s braver than me!

My Year 10 version of a cat – hardly lifelike and I don’t know *what* the fishes were all about!

This is a huge step for my mum and I truly had no idea that she was so interested in art. In truth, I was seen as the only one in my family who could draw when I was a kid. But I really empathise with the hesitation and unwillingness to put yourself out there when it comes to art. I battle with perfectionism all. the. time. and I’m often filled with an overwhelming anxiety before I start a piece – ‘I’ll ruin it’, ‘it won’t look right’, ‘I can’t paint’, ‘it looked better before’.

Looking back at old artwork from secondary school days bizarrely helps. Saved only through the wishes of a loving mother (I said to her that she should bin it all…), I’ve looked through this work recently and have been pleasantly surprised. That pencil drawing that didn’t quite look like the thing I was copying at the time actually looks quite good, those colours that aren’t lifelike at all are quite ‘artistic’. In short, looking at these pictures has reminded me that just because something isn’t ‘perfect’ doesn’t mean it isn’t good. Creating the piece itself actually serves a much more important purpose…

A copy of Albrecht Durer’s *Young Hare* – more lifelike but it looks pretty angry!

Once I overcome the feeling of putting it off (ironically a similar feeling to me writing this blog!), I’ve realised that drawing, painting, or creating any kind of artwork can really be a very relaxing and rewarding exercise. So, if like me you used to have an interest in it, or, if like my mum, you’ve always wanted to have a go, why not get a pencil and paper out and have a go? Or maybe even try something new – I’m trying to get the knack of watercolours (a perfectionist’s NIGHTMARE)!