Just a little painting,
Influenced by my friend,
I don’t live near trees
Or mountains,
I live in a city,
Where the Christmas trees are few.
But she woke up my mind,
She shook my thoughts,
She made me happy.
She made me paint.
Feeling festive,
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Category: Uncategorized
The hunt is on for new owners.
This is Woody, formerly known as Smudge. He has apparently been abandoned by his owners. It turns out he us nine years old, and he’s been living in our summerhouse for a few months. He’s a healthy cat and loving. We would take him in but our cats live indoors ( they are rescue cats and won’t let me take them to the vets for inoculation.) So they have to stay in, and he stays out. But it’s getting towards winter. I think he needs to be a single cat, and to be allowed freedom to come and go. But us a warm hearth too much to ask? Cats protection are putting out an appeal soon to try and find someone to take him in and give him the love he deserves. I think he will need attention to get him back with humans, but he likes to be loved and sits on your lap to be stroked.
Apparently black and white cats are not popular, which is strange as all the cats we have had, except one, have been cute black and white.
X
Memory of my favourite cat.
I painted this several years ago. She was my favorite cat. Always sitting behind the weeping fig at the top of the stairs. I painted her a couple of years before she passed away. I know it’s a long time ago because the fig grew to be about six foot high when we finally got rid of it. It’s one of very few paintings I had framed, because it was for myself. I generally don’t put them on as people can then choose what they want.
She was a lovely friendly cat, and very clever. Much loved.
X
Sunset over the mere
The clouds lifted over the mere as the sun set. For about five minutes it stopped raining and the drumming on the roof eased. The mere was almost invisible in the darkening evening. The only indication of it were reflections of house lights on the waters surface.
One strange ripple broke the surface. The wake of something moved across the glassy water of the mere.
A duck was heading for its nest for the night. Snap! It was gone.
A few feathers were all that were left.
The ripples stopped as the predator sank deeper. Patrolling now up and down the bank, a snap here, a snuck there, finding food…. The Pike picked its prey carefully.
Mural day
I’ve been asked to paint a mural of some geese in a friends house. It’s a small space and on two walls. About eight feet high by about ten wide?
I spent the afternoon painting. Got to go back and carry on with it later in the week. Then I went out and went to a yoga group, then singing. Got back shattered.
I’m glad I said yes to doing the mural.
X
This is my painting.
Continuing the point about copyright, this is my painting of the Burslem witch, Molly Leigh.
Our local TV programme, Midlands today used the image of the elderly woman, (I based it on a painting by Theodore Gericault, of an elderly French peasant woman). I emailed them twice to point out it was my mural, but have not had any response back.
Last Friday I was interviewed by the Sentinel newspaper about this and a photo of my Burslem riot painting that the paper had used without crediting me. I don’t know when it’s du to be published, do it might already have come out.
Anyway. I keep painting.
X
Yesterday was a nothing day
Like an empty room, not needing tidying. A day that passed quickly, where I let time flow.
Why? I was painting, finishing, working, trying to complete art. Time passed in an empty way, flowed from the top of a waterfall to the base, in mid air, then crashing into the reality of getting something done, finished.
But then I went and did choir practice after I’d painted, so no time to come here. The day was asking fast then… After dark, but after choir, shopping, after shopping, cooking and eating.
The day flew past, then a gentle sleep….
I looked up and it was after midnight. The only things posted here were the day before. My days published statistic was about 157 days continuous publishing. I think it will be back to zero…. Ho hum…. But a day off the computer, a real bonus…
On the coast.
Looking for shells. Looking for seaweed on the seastrand. Everything washed clean, no sign of plastic. No sign of anything. The world had changed.
Food was the problem. Not a shellfish in sight, no fish either. It was like a desert. He tried sucking pebbles so that he could stave off his thirst. Later he would go and try and light a fire with some marram grass in the dunes. He walked up slowly off the beach, conserving his energy. There must be something somewhere.
He came over the rise and saw an old concrete building. No door, open to the wind, but shelter. He rummaged inside the cupboards, green with algae. Rotting. But amazingly he found old tin cans. Now if he could find something to open them with, light a fire.
Alone on the island he looked out to sea. Maybe one day a ship would pass? He could only hope.
Lake View.
This is a painting I did from a photo last year. It was in a magazine but I didn’t see who the photographer was. This is one of the things I worry about when using images like this. If I complain about copyright then how can I use others work? But if there is no credit on it can I still use it? That’s why I try and create original art, but it’s not easy. I write ‘after an image or photo by…’ on paintings when I know who they are by….
There are many problems with this. Is there any information anyone can tell me about this I would appreciate it.
Tired
I am tired, like a sleeping cat,
Curled up on my chair,
Snuggled with a hot chocolate,
Soft slippers,
Cardigan.
Ready to snooze.
Long day at the fair,
Concentration, talk, natter, chatter.
Sell this, try to sell that.
Be polite, be thoughtful, be considerate.
Now it’s time to rest,
Do my best,
Have to sleep,
Tired.
