A few tiny paintings

I have a few new paintings. Mostly matchbox sized. I’m putting them in the exhibition of Orme Art Group work at the Brampton museum and art gallery in Newcastle under Lyme. It runs from February to the end of March. We will be having the display in the entrance window. Wish me luck, I hope to sell a few pieces.

Chairs gone!

An empty space…. Twenty-five years had a detrimental effect on our armchairs. The springs were gone and I’d added pillows and cushions to try and build them up. At one stage we thought of reupholstering them, they had been very comfortable. But no, when you have to put books in the base of them to hold them up, and the springs dig into the carpet you know it’s too late! I rescued the seat pads and used them to boost the cushions on the settee which is really only used for guests to sleep on. Waiting for two ‘new’ (secondhand) chairs to be delivered tomorrow.

Gluggle jugs!

I just watched the Great Pottery throwdown filmed at the Gladstone pottery in Stoke on Trent. The contestants were asked to create a matching pair of Gluggle Jugs. The characteristic noise or glug they make is caused by air trapped inside when they are filled with water and the glugs happen when the water is poured out… The creations were wonderful and the head judge Keith Brymer-Jones was overwhelmed with the skill of the contestants.

Here is a paragraph from the Internet about their development, I couldn’t see an author.

Originally known as Glug Glug Jugs, they were first made by Thomas Forester & Son in Staffordshire during the late 1800’s, but it was the adaptations created by the Dartmouth Pottery, designed to look like a fish and aptly named Gurgling Fish Jugs, that are more recognised (and replicated) today.3 Oct 2022

I decided to try and draw one to show what they look like. Artrage app finger painting.

I used this for the prompt ‘new’ on our #bandofsketchers challenge as it is a new series.

Alone

Each morning I look for you

Remember cycling behind you

Along roads we knew

I listen for your key in the door

Your footstep on the stair

The sound of your voice

“come to bed – it’s late!”

The times I didn’t hear you

Switched off and ignored you.

I feel guilty for losing you

Not taking care of you….

A phone call to say you’re Ok

I’ll see you today?

Coming back,

Not gone forever

The mirror is broken

Lost forever

And I’m alone.

Mossy roof

View over rickety old workshops in Etruria last week. The roof is heavily covered in moss. It’s also covered in leaf litter from silver birch trees growing on the Etruria Flint mill land. It must have blown across in the heavy winds we had over the last couple of months. Today I’m having a rest after loudly wassailing last night.

Wassail!

Imagine 500 villagers with flaming torches. Domesday Morris dance group amongst them wearing ‘tatters’ (white shirts and black trousers and boots with waistcoats with strips of cloth hanging loose, topped with hats covered in ivy and bird feathers.

Plus Penkhull brass band, and us, the Mystery Singers choir regaling the crowd with various Wassail songs.

We walked around the boundary of Penkhull and sang in front of the ancient ‘bloody’ apple tree halfway down Trent Valley road, then around to local pubs to sing a wassail to all of them. For the first time in ages I felt happy.

Out and about

View from the balcony

Silver birches in front of the chimney at Jessie Shirley’s bone and flint mill in Etruria, Stoke on Trent today. It was very grey and overcast, but the silver white bark of the trees shone out like exclamation marks against the industrial museum background. It’s funny how your eyes accommodate and let more light in than the camera does. To me they really stood out. But they photo is really dull, maybe I should edit it?

I’m thinking of doing some volunteering in the near future to get out and about more, Etruria seems like somewhere to start. x

Opportunity

One of our local museums, the Brampton, in Newcastle under Lyme, is letting the Orme Art Group exhibit work in their entrance window from the end of January for two months. It’s a chance to sell work or at least get our work in front of a new audience. We each can show one work plus some smaller pieces. Plus it gets a painting out of the house for a while. I hope the display does well.