Finished Owl

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He’s finished ! Took a while….

I have been a bit “off” lately, I’ve wanted to finish a couple of paintings but haven’t felt up to it. To do art you have to concentrate, work out what you are doing, then act on it. I could think what I wanted to do but could not do it. I think I had been working so hard towards the two craft fairs I did a couple of weeks ago that I had run out of steam. So it’s good to be able to paint again. I love this little owl, he’s only tiny but I think he’s a real character. He should be going to a new owner today.

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Little Owl

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I’m painting a Little owl for a friend. I started it on Saturday, and need to get it finished. 

I think these are the smallest owls found in Britain. 

I love the piercing eyes, the ruffled feathers. I’m adding Holly in the background to make it more seasonal. It’s another acrylic on canvas, which I find works best for me with this type of subject. 

It’s a commission and already sold so I had better get a move on and get it finished. 

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Small Little Owl

1544289754333-448696886this is another work in progress. Little owl, acrylic on canvas.

The smallest species of owl in the country I think. I’m adding holly branches to make it more seasonal.

The picture is about 6 inches by 4 inches. I want to work on the feathers and legs and feet.

Those eyes look like they  are about to blink at me, and I can imagine the soft but strong feathers fluffed up against a north wind…

As the nursery rhyme goes. .

The North Wind shall blow,

And we shall have snow,

And what shall poor Robin do then?

Poor thing!

He’ll sit in a barn,

And kerp himself warm,

And tuck his head under his wing

Poor thing!

Robin

We saw a Robin at a garden centre yesterday. He was flitting through the plants and as I walked towards him he would move on. Then it got to the end of the row and just sat there so I quickly snapped a couple of pictures of it.

His (or her) red breast shone out against the dull brown of the dormant plants

I thought I would try and write a simple haiku to celebrate the bird…..

Red Robin here then
Gone with a quick flit of air
Wings take you away

I’m not sure I have mastered the style yet. But I enjoy trying.

Getting your ducks in a row

I found this digital drawing of a duck on my Facebook memories. It was drawn in ArtRage oils and I just liked the pattern for the feathers that I created so I took a section of it and duplicated it in the Layout app on my tablet. I then changed the colours slightly in an Instagram filter called Charmes I think.

I wanted to make a reflection pattern and this uses 16 sections of the original drawing turned and twisted. I think the bits at the top and the bottom look like small crabs and the central sections look like vegetation arching  over a still pond.

I often draw birds, I love the way their eyes stare out at you. I love feathers, I used to draw them all the time as a child. I liked how the strands in them interlock. I have drawn peacocks and swans and lately painted crows. I would like to be able to paint birds in flight, its how their wings spread, and the feathers flutter and split as the wind flows through them. I like the iridescent colours that sparkle off the feathers, especially on birds such as peacocks.

 

phoenix

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Apologies to real writers out there. I drew this then decided to write a very short story to go with it…forgive me!

The Phoenix rose into the air above the flames,  it’s wings beat them back and swirled huge sparks around it. The shock waves from its flight blew branches off the trees, then tiles off the roof just across the way from where the bird had cracked the golden shell of her egg.

In the bedroom of the house a young girl sat brushing her hair before she got into bed. A small nightlight with a pink shade cast a gentle glow in the room. Two windows let in pale starlight, and for a moment the girl thought she saw a shooting star streaking across the sky.

The Phoenix had seen the steady light from the bedroom. It was young and craved the warm heat that it had left behind. It had been born in the bonfire that the girls neighbour had lit earlier in the day, not knowing that an old Phoenix had laid her egg there before fluttering off to die in the forest.

Phoenix can survive without fire, but when they are chicks they need warm light to dry out their feathers which stay damp from the egg for a long time. The light from the room was just right so beating her wings she flitted across the street.

The girl opened her window to allow cool air into the room and snuggled down under the covers. As she lay there she thought she heard the scrabbling of her cats claws at the door. But the noise seemed to be coming from her bedside table. Quietly she lifted the blankets and looked, directly into the glinting eye of the Phoenix!

No ….she must be dreaming  she thought. Then she saw the bird had carefully curved its wings around the top of the night light.  It raised its head so that its neck was straight and beak pointed up to the ceiling.

Now it was bathing in the heat and light, gaining strength with each minute. The girl lay still, she didn’t want to breath. She could see through the wings, they were almost transparent now, the bird was starting to fade……

“Don’t go!” she whispered, but it was too late. The Phoenix  had become a sparkling, soaring mass of light, weightless, magical, etherial.

Quietly it flowed through the air like liquid gold and silver. …out through the window and on towards the rising moon….