reflected glory

I just thought I would show you this page from last month's Country Living magazine. It shows the studio of the lovely Emma, aka Silverpebble, who was featured in their 'Women and their Sheds' series.

What's that to do with me you might rightly wonder... well, that's my paper garland in the background! Emma kindly bought one from my Winter Shop a couple of years ago, and I think it looks lovely in its new home, don't you?

I wrote about how I made these garlands here.

june

June ... is the month for roses, warm sun, tea in the garden and light evenings when it is hard to be early in bed.

From Something to Do, a Young Puffin Original edited by Septima and beautifully illustrated by Shirley Hughes, published in 1966, the year I was born, and the constant accompaniment to my childhood.

It's hard to believe that we are already nearing the end of the month. Despite all the rain and stormy weather, I'm pleased to say we have had roses and warm sun and the other things mentioned above, although perhaps less abundantly than we might have wished for. There certainly hasn't been any shortage of Something to Do:

Tea in the garden - and perhaps more importantly, cake - has featured very prominently, since June is the month when my best friend Anne opens her garden for Didsbury Open Gardens (as well as the NGS) and we serve tea and cake in vintage teacups and best pinnies. Fourteen large cakes had to be made and iced the week before, with one or two extras for 'testing', of course. It's always a lovely day, and fun to meet friends and old neighbours.

This weekend was a special anniversary and so we battled through the torrential rain for a three-night stay in beautiful Northumberland. The beaches, castles, gardens and gentle rolling countryside are so lovely, and we had the most gorgeous and elegant afternoon tea at the Earl Grey Tea House at Howick Hall as well as lots of rambles and pottering about, a wonderful few hours at Barter Books,  and lots of time scuffing about on beaches collecting limpet shells to string into a little whirly wreath.

Earlier in the month, of course, we were all treated to a couple of days holiday for the Golden Jubilee here in the UK, and we decided to pop up to the Lake District to see the Jubilee beacons being lit. After a lovely sunny afternoon drinking tea and reading the papers overlooking Coniston Water at the Jumping Jenny Tearooms at Brantwood, we climbed up Hampsfell near Cartmel and watched the sunset over the Lakeland Fells, followed by the lighting of the beacons. It was a truly magical experience to watch one pinprick of light after another gradually appear on the mountainous skyline until we were surrounded by a ring of tiny distant fires. It was just like Lord of the Rings. Then, suddenly, out of the cloud bank, the full moon rose majestically above the expanse of Morecambe Bay, creating a moonlit path across the water. Wonderful, except then we had to get back to the car down a rocky path with only our wind-up torch for company... a little bit of a Laurel and Hardy ending to a magical day, as is so often the case in our household I'm afraid!

So that was June. Hopefully there will be a bit more art in July.

Mary Fedden

Goodbye Mary Fedden, whose work I have so much enjoyed. I hope you are happy and reunited with all your cats and objects and beloved people in a magical place with zebras and teapots and vases of brightly coloured flowers. Thank you for all your beautiful paintings.

and this week

This week we did lino cutting. I hated it! It totally divided the class into those who fell into a kind of dreamy right-side-of-the-brain absorption (most people), and those who moaned continually and felt no connection with the technique at all (me). I found the carving clumsy and effortful, and the results two-dimensional and uninspiring... but now I know a little bit more about what is 'me' and what not to bother with next time...! The drawing I used for inspiration is above, the resulting print is shown below.

 

carborundum prints

The second and third weeks of the printing course were spent learning how to make an image using two plates: one drypoint and one using carborundum grit. I loved this.

I took as my starting point the drawing below: it's one of a series of 'automatic' drawings/collages I did last spring. Not really being sure what I was doing or how it was going to turn out, I had a go at interpreting the darks and lights into drypoint, acrylic brushwork and carborundum grit, and you can see the results above. I was really pleased with it and feel there is a lot of potential for me here.

seaweed prints

I recently started a beginners printmaking course at a wonderful and friendly print studio and I have come to look forward very much to my Tuesday nights at this inspiring place.

Last week we were introduced to the process of drypoint printing, and I took along an ink drawing of some seaweed as my starting point.

 

First of all the image had to be scanned and reduced to fit the size of the perspex plate on which we were working.

 

Then the perspex plate was laid over the image and I carefully 'drew' over it using a drypoint needle, scratching the surface of the perspex to leave the characteristic 'burr' of raised perspex where the needle had been.

After bevelling the edges of the plate, it was then inked up using black intaglio ink which was pressed into the scratch marks with a piece of stiff card and then wiped off gently using scrim and tissue paper.

Then the plate was ready to print, made into a sandwich on the etching press with newsprint, soaked and blotted cartridge paper and heavy wool blankets. The action of rolling the plate through the press is physical and very satisfying.

And this was the result! I was delighted with the quality and expression of the line and the lovely indented plate mark on the paper, as well as the unexpected smudges and smears of ink that mark it out as a learner piece - but one that I was very pleased to produce.

 A closer view of the finished print:

Next week we are doing collograph, but I am going early to see how many more editions I can print from my seaweed plate before the burr deteriorates. I'm very excited by this new process and can already see all sorts of imaginary work in my head... as usual.

er...hi...

I feel a bit embarrassed walking in here as if everything was normal and I'd only popped out for a few minutes when in fact it's been nearly two months since my last post!

To make up for it I thought I'd share a couple of things that have inspired me recently: first of all the work of Rex Ray, and in particular this inspiring video about his working practices and perspective on life. I'm not so keen on his more psychedelic creations, but I do love those early collages, and I'm planning a therapeutic session of cutting and sticking myself this Easter weekend.

Secondly, I can't remember where I came across it, but this book of Indian spiritual drawings, some from the seventeenth century, is amazing. This New York Times article describes the work as 'seventeenth-century modernism' and it certainly causes you to consider the work of people like Patrick Heron, Sandra Blow and Ben Nicholson in a new way. There is a breathtaking simplicity that draws you deeper in these wonderful artworks.

I've signed up for a five-week beginners' printing course which starts on Tuesday, and so I hope to have a few bits and pieces to share with you over the coming weeks.

Meanwhile, have a very happy Easter. In our house we have mini-eggs, a new baby Emma Bridgewater chick mug, a tiny fluffy lamb, a lemon cake, a 'make-your-own-Easter-balloon-kit' and a roast dinner to look forward to, as well as all that resurrection and new life, of course.