Five years on.

Tempus fugit … Time flies. And it’s never been truer than with my blog. I first started blogging 5 years ago today. FIVE YEARS!!!

When I dived head-first into the world of blogging it was to add another dimension to my web site. My web site had been started some 8 years earlier in the hope of getting feedback and advice on the results of my newest hobby, painting. As I progressed (albeit very slowly), time and time again I came across people who had thought of having a go at watercolours, but never taken the plunge because they didn’t think they’d be any good at it, and others who had tried once, not produced a masterpiece, and therefore given up. I became increasingly aware of a burning desire to tell these people that they must have a go, and that they must not expect their first efforts to be great. And of course, I wanted to let both groups know that the enjoyment is in the ‘doing’ regardless of the end result.

Although it has earned me a reputation for lacking confidence in my work, my approach was to spread the word by example, and so I adopted the policy of posting ALL of my work, good and bad, and pointing out the things that hadn't worked as well as I'd hoped. I've tried to show beginners by example that it’s okay to ask silly questions, because no question is silly. I've tried to show them that you have to show your bad work if you want advice on how to improve. And I've tried to show them that the best lessons there are, come from our own mistakes. In fact, we learn more from a bad painting than we do a good one.

But what happened with my blog was not at all what I’d expected. I follow other artists because I think they are far better than me and they are skilled people I think I can learn from. Therefore I assumed that if I were fortunate enough to pick up any followers they would be beginners just starting out. I had never, in my wildest dreams (and I have some pretty wild ones) expected to be followed by extremely talented and competent artists as you all are. It makes no sense. 

What I get from following your blogs are lessons in technique, hints and tips, demonstrations (via WIP’s), insight into other mediums, inspiration by the bucketful and the opportunity to view some exceptional art. What I get from having you follow my blog is encouragement, support, advice and a massive sense of belonging. This last point is probably the greatest prize of all.

To mark my 5th blogiversay I thought I’d post a few pictures that have been milestones for me for various reasons. And for any beginners ambling by, I've explained why each of these weren't completely straightforward.

Miniature Rose

Though a simple painting, I've always felt very pleased with this one. It was my first painting of a single flower and I remember struggling with the blending as the darker tones turned to mud.

Captain Jack Sparrow

This one was my first serious portrait. I didn't know anything about graphite blending so experimented using a tightly rolled sheet of kitchen paper, and I remember struggling so much with a 8B pencil as I tried to get some dark blacks.

The Market Square, Northampton

This was my most ambitious pen drawing. It was one of the first pictures that I did a full Work-In-Progress of. There was a lot I didn't know how to do with this one, but I made it up as I went along, and it came out okay in the end.

Steelworker

This one was an experiment in trying to paint 'heat' and I was very pleased with the way it turned out. Much better than I could have ever hoped. This is the only painting I've sold in an exhibition.

Leopard

The best thing I can say about this one is to quote the final sentence from when I posted it on my blog. 

Different pencils and two serious mistakes ... am I disappointed? No ... I am three more step along this wonderful journey of discovery.

Fuchsia "Winston Churchill"

Having started out with watercolours and then discovered the wonder of pencils, I suppose it was inevitable that one day the two mediums would come together into a single picture. Drawing with pencil on a heavily textured watercolour paper was another challenge that I hadn't anticipated ... but I got there.

"We did it!"

If someone had told me at the beginning of this journey that I would draw a portrait of my daughter and son-in-law on their wedding day, I would have laughed out loud.

Frustrating, challenging, and not without it's disappointments, yet this wonderful art journey we are on never ceases to be satisfying, rewarding and so full of enjoyment. To all my followers I say a big, heart-felt thank you .... you're the best.

The Grey Lady

Here is a drawing I did for a bit of fun. I took it from a photograph sent to me by a good friend who saw this street performer at the Edinburgh Festival. The performer was dressed all in grey, including grey make-up on her face, and it was that monochrome appearance that appealed to me from a drawing point of view. The shape of this lady was entirely defined by shadows, highlights and textures.

We are not certain, but we believe the street performer was portraying "The Grey Lady" who haunts the family chapel at Glamis Castle. She is said to be the spirit of Lady Janet Douglas who was burned at the stake as a witch on Castle Hill, Edinburgh in 1537. She was accused of plotting to poison the King but the charges were likely fabricated for political reasons. Allegedly, the ghost has been seen quite recently by a number of witnesses.

I'm not entirely convinced by this as the period dress doesn't really suggest 16th century to me, but since it's only a bit of fun, it's as good an explanation as any other.

It's not always about the art

My latest 'plein air' adventure resulted in some fairly poor art, as usual, but that didn't matter in the slightest. I'm rapidly coming to the opinion that the 'art' is secondary to the sheer enjoyment of getting out into the countryside, on foot, ambling along listening to the birds, taking in the fresh air and enjoying the wildlife.

This time I headed to a 'wet' area near here that doubles up as a 'flood plain' receiving all the run-off water from the nearby concrete jungle. I followed a path alongside our main river, and after about a mile found that the river ran alongside a lake with the path being on a narrow strip of land between the river and the lake. It was there that I spotted a small shack under a tree in a field being ploughed by the farmer. I decided this was to be the subject of my painting. I set up my kit just to one side of the path and sat looking out across the river.

After about 15 minutes of sheer bliss and tranquillity on this warm summers day, I became aware of a movement further down the track. When I looked I saw a herd of sheep coming my way. They pretty much filled the width of the strip of land and there were scores more following the advanced party.

Being a 'townie' and never having had anything to do with sheep, or any other animals apart from my pet dogs, I admit to feeling somewhat insecure sitting in the path. So I stood up. I was hoping to make myself look big enough for them not to charge .... or is that Bulls? Anyway, I stood my ground and waited to see what would happen.

I need not have worried because, once they'd approached a little nearer, as if on command from some invisible shepherd, they smartly moved into rows of two.

If this had been a class of school children under the watchful eyes of their teachers I could not have been more impressed.

Most of them walked calmly passed without so much as a glance in my direction, though some were mildly inquisitive and couldn't help try and get a peep at my half-finished painting.

Some looked as if they wanted to say "Good morning" and have a chat.

And after several minutes of watching them stroll passed, still they came. My best estimate, for what it's worth, is that there were something like 100 sheep in all.

But I soon felt at ease with them and returned to my painting, aware that they were steadily passing by just behind me. 

Though feeling more confident now, when one of them suddenly let rip with a loud and rasping "Baaaaah", I jumped a mile and almost spilled my paints. Good job I didn't or this little guy may have received an unexpected make-over.






As I suggested at the beginning, the 'art' that took place that day was not very satisfactory. Within minutes of starting the watercolour I wasn't very pleased with the way it was going. I think we know when something just isn't working. Rather than persevere or worse, start over, I just left it. However, later at home I took a different view and decided to finish it from the reference photo's I'd taken.

And as I walked back along the river path I could see part of a Quarry over some bushes around a bend in the river. I climbed up on a fence for a better view and sat there to do this quick pencil sketch




I'm looking forward to my next walk ... whether I get to paint or not.  ;-)

Rose

A week ago I sat down to draw a Rose. I wanted to try and get some nice smooth blends so looked for the smoothest paper I have. What a mistake that was! I chose Extra Smooth Surface Bristol Board (250 gsm) thinking it would 'be the business'. I wanted to build up my tones gradually so started light with a hard (5H) pencil. All was well until I started to blend, and then I found the tortillons were leaving unpleasant streaks on the paper rather than giving a smooth graduation of tone. I switched to paper-based stumps but they were just as bad. I persevered, building up tones with more graphite, switching to a softer (H) pencil, and blending, blending, blending. The end result was very disappointing ... and I was disappointed in my own efforts because I've never been a workman who blames his tools.

To try and salvage the drawing, I went over it all again with softer (2B; 4B) pencils and eventually, after a very many hours and much toil, achieved a result that was 'passable'. But it was bothering me that I'd had so much trouble so I just had to try again. I was unsure if the problem was the paper, the pencils, the blenders or me, I didn't want to change everything or I'd never answer the question. I've always felt happy with the pencils, the blenders have always worked before, and I didn't want to change 'me' or I'd have missed the experience, so I looked for a different paper. This time I chose Daler Rowney Heavyweight (220gsm).

Apart from the change of paper, I approached the whole thing as I did first time around ... but what a difference. The tones built up gradually, as planned, and the blending was smooth and delicate. I felt in control again and things were happening the way I wanted them to.

I can only conclude that the Extra Smooth Bristol Board just doesn't have enough tooth for this sort of work ... and if I'm wrong please don't tell me 'cause I'm finally feeling happy again. ;-)

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.

A few days ago I went out for a walk and followed a path that cut through a couple of nearby housing estates before eventually leading out into the countryside along the edge of a Wheat field. After about half an hour I found myself on top of a hill with a lovely view of the next village. I set up my stuff and proceeded to paint. I struggled mixing colours and felt as if I was slapping paint around in a haphazard fashion, so much so that after about 40 minutes I gave up. This wasn't what I'd expected after my last, more successful endeavour ... and the church tower looking more like the Leaning Tower of Pisa didn't help in the slightest.

Disappointed in my painting effort but determined to become more proficient painting en plein air I decided to try again. This time I started with a pen on the assumption that the black pen lines would hold the painting together. I found myself moving the pen around quickly and the result was much more sketchy than I'd intended, but I liked it better than the first and so I headed home.

Later in the day, still feeling disappointed that my first effort hadn't turned out as intended, I downloaded to my computer a reference photo I'd taken of the scene, and set up my easel. This time I felt much more in control. I was happier mixing the colours, and was taking greater care with my brush thinking more about lights and darks. I felt that this painting was working and my earlier disappointments soon started to fade.

This is the first time I've painted the same scene both indoors and out and it has proved a valuable lesson. I've learned that I must not expect 'studio' level results when painting in the field, yet I must somehow try and approach a painting outdoors in the same way as I do when I'm at my easel.

The journey continues. ;-)

More Bridges

The good weather coupled with getting caught up with a few things, has allowed me to get out for another walk and some more plein air sketching. This time I went to some local lakes popular with the local angling community. The walk took me through woodland, along open paths alongside the lakes, past fields of hay so tall it must surely be ready for cropping, and past many families of ducks clearly not impressed at my ambling through their territory.

The walk also took me over some small wooden footbridges. One was made of sawn timbers but was surprisingly ornate in it's construction and looked almost out of place out in the middle of an overgrown woodland track. It had seen better days and many of the floor boards were showing signs of rot and I wonder how long it will be before someone puts their foot through it. I was intrigued by is diagonal design, stepping onto it from the side, and off from the opposite side.

Others bridges were less fussy and were nothing more than a few planks nailed together without any form of hand rail. They looked barely capable of holding a persons weight. It is most concerning because if someone were to fall from the bridge they would find themselves immersed in the fast flowing stream right up to their ankles. But I shouldn't joke. This one in particular crossed a stream that could easily have been stepped over, but the ramp up to it tells me it is there to make the area wheelchair-friendly and hats off to the land owners for making the lakes accessible to all.

I decided to set up under the shade of some trees looking up the hill towards Castle Ashby Manor and it's church. The manor is a typical 16th century manor house and was seat to the Marquess of Northampton.

From a technical point of view, I really struggle sketching while standing. Both bridges were done this way. I could have set up my stool but I wanted to try again while standing as it's definitely something I'm going to have to work at. I found the painting easier than last time. Not that I did any better but I felt a little more at ease and a little more in control of what I was doing. I do find it hard to concentrate on colour mixing and tonal values while out 'in the field', but I had a general feeling of 'doing better'. While sketching the ornate bridge a couple appeared out of the woods and made their way across the bridge. I stood my ground and carried on sketching ... and that is progress indeed.

Can't wait for my next walk.  :-)

Robin Hoods Bay

Last year, when on holiday in Yorkshire, we were based just a couple of miles from Robin Hoods Bay, which is a quaint little fishing village built into the side of the cliffs. The first record of the village was in the 16th century and there is no evidence whatsoever to link the village with Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest. In the 18th century it was reportedly the busiest smuggling village on the coast of Yorkshire due to it's natural isolation. Wandering through the narrow alleys between the cottages conjured up a great sense of smugglers and hidden contraband. By the middle of the 19th century a thriving fishing industry existed.

King Street, Robin Hood's Bay - Graphite

We had to leave the car at the top of the cliffs and walk down the steep hill into the village.  I wandered through the narrow alleyways between the buildings, firing my camera almost continuously ... every turn revealed a new photo opportunity. One such alleyway brought me out at the top of King Street, just up from "Ye Dolphin" Inn. I couldn't figure out why the Inn sign had a painting of a galleon on it, rather than a Dolphin and I guess that will remain one of life's mysteries.

I chose Winsor & Newton Medium Surface Cartridge paper (130 gsm) because it has a strong grain when used with graphite and I thought that would help with the textures of the old buildings. It made it harder to get clean, sharp lines, but the tooth in the paper made the darks easier to achieve. I'm quite pleased with the effect as I think it really adds to the Olde Worlde scene.

Obviously I used artistic licence to omit various 21st century eye-sores such as Wheelie Bins, Television Aerials, roof lights and telephone cables. But one way in which 21st century did help was with one of the buildings which was badly obscured on my reference photo by a large "For Sale" sign. I was delighted to be able to use Google Street View to see what was there. lol.