Nothing New

As some wag said: "What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again, there is nothing new under the sun..."[Eclesiastes 1:9]

It would make you sick: just when you think you are doing great you turn a corner, go into a gallery, and see that it has all been done before - only better!

I'd been reading about "free abstraction" as done during the 1950's by the English artist Gillian Ayres ["...(her) painting refuses to present an image that might invite pictorial interpretation, or that might propose any analogy beyond that manifest in the energetic distribution of pigmented material across a characterless fabricated surface" (usually hardboard) to quote Mel Gooding in his 2001 biography of GA ]. I decided after reading this that what was required was to cast off inhibition and make my own attempts allowing my subconscious, and brush, free reign.

After a good few, stilted, disasters these three appeared out of the chaos of my mind:

Acrylics on paper, 60x45cm:"Free Abstraction #7";

Acrylics on paper, 60x45cm:"Free Abstraction #8";

And:

Acrylics on paper, 45x60cm:"Free Abstraction #9";

There is no attempt to represent anything. What I am searching for is an expression of something intangible, ungraspable, inexpressable in words. They won't 'mean' anything to anyone else, but they mean something to me and gave me great satisfaction.

Until....

...until I walked into Roger Billcliffe's gallery in Glasgow and was astonished to see these fabulous freely expressed abstractions by Gail Harvey, a Glasgow artist now based in Shetland:

Mixed media on canvas, 177x152cm:"Journey";

Mixed media, 99x69cm:"Blue on the Horizon"

These just blew my socks off! I said to the young guy at the desk "these just look like one of my favourite artists Duncan Shanks, to which he replied - "Aye, she was taught by him!". to which I retorted:"I wish I had been taught by him too!".

Go and have a look at her stuff for yourselves here: http://www.billcliffegallery.com/

I have run out of words (at the moment) to describe just how much I love this stuff!

Respite

Took ourselves away for a week at my favourite self-catering cottage, Hope Cottage, on the island of Arran, just off the West coast of Scotland. This is our "bolt-hole" in times of stress and upset and every day we walked the hills, through the forests and across the moors all the time bathing in the most glorious weather we've had for a long time. Cleansing and refreshing, but no drawing or painting - couldn't get down to it.
So the best I can do at the moment is to translate some of the many photographs I took into these sketches:

Pencil on paper, A5: "Stone of Hope"; Fairly representational to start but a good exercise to remind myself about drawing.

Every morning I walked down to the shore to watch the Ringed Plover and Curlews, and throw some angry stones into the water:


Neocolour II on paper, A5: "Rock Pool"; Extending myself a bit further with a range of colour markings.

One afternoon after J had got her make-up on to face the world (takes all morning, y'know, and three cups of coffee! but it's worth it - a work of what I call Raw Visionary Art [but please don't tell her I said so :o} and we wouldn't like to scare any kids out there] we climbed up through the forests of Glenashdale, a circular route of only four miles but probably another two vertically! All the time you are puffing and stopping for some oxygen you look upwards at the towering pine trees, bare lower down their trunks showing glimpses of yellow Larch needles against a clear blue sky:

Neocolour II on paper, A5: "Towering Pines"; Trying to get this slender verticality in an A5 pad.

And then you break out into open ground where great swathes of forest have already been cleared leaving a small stand of European Larch turning to these wonderful shades of autumnal colour enhanced by the clear blue sky:

Neocolour II on paper: "Autumn Larches"; There may be other pine trees that are deciduous but these are probably the most common, and a beautiful sight to behold with the freshest green needles in Spring and these rich yellows and orange in the Autumn.

Lastly, looking across the Kilbrannan Sound in the gloaming:

Neocolour on paper, A5:"Kilbrannan Sundowners"; This is a wonderful stretch of water between Arran and the Mull of Kintyre. Often we see the most glorious sunsets looking in this direction and sometimes, if we are lucky, we can see whales or dolphins swimming down the Sound on their way to the open sea. And one day we did! A large pod of at least a dozen animals gently working their way Southwards not too far from shore that we got a good sight of them. Spellbound we were - for a while. But the spell of this wondrous sight was broken by a complete eejit on a powerboat who came skelping round the point and charged straight into the middle of the pod. Dolphins going everywhichway trying to get away from him, but he continued to chase them for miles, past Davaar and Sanda, out into the Atlantic.

Some humans don't deserve the title! Fortunately there are many more, like you dear readers, who do.

Thank you for your time, and goodnight!

ps: a special thanks to Brian for getting me up off my butt and writing again. Cheers mate!

Last Post For Leo

Now I am no poet (and I know it) but here are some thoughts and feelings composed this morning while supposed to be doing the metta bavahna:


My garden is empty now

My garden is empty now
Like a deserted plain
No more shall I see you
Bound across the lawn with gay abandon
Legs in all directions as you charge
Into my heart.

My window ledge is empty now
Like a hole in my heart
No more shall I see your
Mischievous face looking in waiting
Patiently for me to come down the stairs
And let you in.

The seat by my side is empty now
Like a vacant parking space
No more shall I see you
Sleeping on your back with legs in the air
And slitted eyes watching my every move
As I try to pull at your tail.

My lap is empty now
Like a part of my body
Has been taken away
No more shall I stroke your willing head
And suffer your glare
When I stop for a moment.

My heart is empty now
Like a black hole
Heavy with sadness
No more shall we share our uncertain lives
Nor meet for the daily round
Of love and respect.

My garden is empty now.

And here is a small selection of the many photographs I took of Leo (most of them rubbish but kept just the same):

When First He Came To Stay:

The red collar was very short lived until I gave up and let him be the wildcat he was.

Chums on a Sunny Day in the Garden:

A bit out of focus but it shows right from the beginning that of all places he chose my lap to sit on.

Last Christmas:

He loved getting into boxes and bags. The mouse present was purely an aside. And anyway he gave me more gifts of mice than I can remember. Who will control them now?

.

Workmate:

How many days did we share in the studio? He would sit at the glazed door waiting patiently for me to let him in then dive up onto the table and into his own corner (top right) to sleep the afternoon away while I worked. This is the Master giving me some needy advice.

.

The Last Photograph I Took Just Last Week:

I've got a million photos of him sleeping like this. It never ceased to amaze me and I wouldn't have wanted him to be uncomfortable!

.

.

.

Goodbye my friend.

Dear Friends

It grieves me to have to tell you that as far as I can be certain Leo is dead and gone.

I duly phoned the Council yesterday morning and they confirmed it was a black&white cat that was removed but they also immediately incinerated his body. I understand their responsibility to do that quickly but I am angered they did not scan him for the record. I was told they do not have the time or the equipment to do so. I will write to the South Lanarkshire Council's Director of Land Services to express my dismay that they cannot make the time or have the small hand-held piece of equipment to scan what was obviously a family pet as a matter of standard proceedure. It may be a nuisance to them but it is of great importance to me and others who might lose their furry friend and not know what happened.

I still look for him at the window.

Lost

And I'm not talking about the cat!

He's gone out of my life about as quickly as he came into it. He's been gone now for four full days and I can hardly do anything except look for his mischievous wee face at the window waiting to get in (I never installed a cat-flap because I knew he would bring in daily conquests so he had to sit on the window ledge waiting, patiently to get in). Perhaps that's why he left?

But I haven't given up on him: So far I've got the local shop owner to put up a small poster asking for anyone who sees him to give me a call; I've also been round the local neighbourhood handing out leaflets and asking if anyone has seen him would they also give me a call (they all know this cat because he regularly passes through their gardens on his travels, or sits under bushes waiting for unsuspecting birdies). Apart from the one cat hater I spoke to who would chase him, all my other neighbours were as concerned as me about his welfare. It took me a whole morning to go round them with all their own stories of missing cats! So not only is Leo now a celebrity but I've become the local idiot who's life seems to revolve around a pussy-cat!

After checking round my own patch lest he was lying injured under the shrubery I phoned Leo's first family (that's how I know his name is Leo and not really Toots {which is the name I gave her before I took her to the vet worried that I would end up with a litter of kittens, only to be told she was a boy!} - that's me: man of the world who can't tell the difference, ha!). Apparently Leo had turned up at their house three months ago, been fed, and disappeared again - back to my house! Obviously he has done this before - wandering off to ingratiate himself with another soft-touch family who will pet him stupid. So perhaps I shouldn't be surprised he's gone again.
I got two telephone calls yesterday: the first from a lady down the street saying she saw him wander through her garden. Out I went hoping that it was him, but no, it was an all black, long-hair and not my bold boy. The second call was from his previous family saying they were sure they saw him last night, but, again, when I got there no sign.

This is my wee pal giving me the eye as I try to photograph him for 'Cat' magazine or 'Cosmopolitan' or 'Time'.

Today I called the Scottish Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SSPCA, of which I am a supporter) to register his disappearance in the hope that if he is reported as injured, handed in, or even killed, they will get to know about it and reading his "chip" will contact me. Nothing recorded yet.

What more can I do except walk the streets looking?

I've been giving this a lot of thought (obviously!) and it seems to me whatever his reasons for leaving I can only hope that it is by his own choice. I always recognised his free spirit (that's largely what I liked about him) and perhaps knew one day he would leave. He came into my life during a very low and dark period (J was ill and I had no-one to share my deepest thoughts) and quickly he became my pal (feeding him chewies might have had something to do with it, you think?). But it seems to me that in life we hate change and try to hang on to the status quo when, in fact, life constantly changes around us (nothing is permanent) and we either resist this change in circumstances and struggle, or we embrace the change and move forward. I don't want to move forward without Leo - but I may have to.

Latest update: Tonight, just as I was sitting down to dinner, I got a call from the daughter of one of my neighbours who lives close by in another area telling me of a dead cat lying in the street close to her house. I immediately set of to see for myself (I need to know either way). It was gone. I knocked the nearest door and spoke to the guy who firstly phoned the SSPCA, and then phoned the Council. He confirmed it was black&white and they must have removed it. J was in tears when I returned, but I am more positive: I will phone the Council in the morning and we will try to determine if it was Leo or not. My mixed-feeling hope is that it was another B&W who roamed that area - a cat with an endearing startled look on his face, but definitely not Leo.

We shall know tomorrow (I hope).

I'm sorry there is no arwork to talk about but I can't.

Fragments

A fragmented day. Whoever said only women can multi-task got it completely wrong. My mind has been in at least six places all day.
Firstly (and most importantly), the cat: it's not unusual for Leo not to turn up in the morning, but he is usually there at the window at least by mid-day. No sign of him. And still at half-past-eight this evening still no sign of him. Not like him at all. Eight o'clock is his sweetie-time. Either he's copped his whack under the wheels of a car (which I don't believe because he is very fast indeed), or someone is keeping him. I wouldn't blame them for Leo is one good looking feline. But HE IS MINE! LET HIM GO!!!!
Secondly, painting: Hard to concentrate today. Attempting to push my boundaries a little further (while at the same time continuously looking out of the studio door hoping to see il mio gatto sitting patiently for me, waiting to get in) working on pastel images and acrylic paintings of abstracted fragments straight from my subconscious. No thinking - just doing. Responding intuitively with a bunch of colours in my hand [see images below].
Thirdly: the new boiler is acting up - it frequently "locks-out" which means when hot water is required it fails to ignite and warning lights come on requiring re-setting. I am unable to induce this to happen and find myself watching it for ages so I can catch it 'in flagrante' so to speak. No luck - it apparently knows when I am observing it - but there it goes again just when I turn away! Bandit (to put it mildly)!
Fourthly: I've had to get two new front tyres for my car this morning before the winter sets in properly since those on the front are too close to the limit (oh what fun sitting in the garage waiting room trying to read a newspaper and ignore the numpties on day-time telly who expose their miserable lives to the world {she wants to give her ex-con, pot-smoking, lazy-bastard of a live-in boyfriend, and father of her three children who he couldn't give a damn about, another chance after he has cheated on her for an EIGHTH time!!!! [and not only is he unintelligible when he speaks but more than half of it is bleeped out to save my delicate ears] I think: when the hell will my tyres be ready and where the hell is my cat! Important things, ye'know?
Fifthly: trying to break in these new Timberland clod-hoppers to wear with my kilt at tomorrow night's ceilidh {one of The Mandolin Boys (big Alan) is getting hitched and there will be a party with no holds barred!} [so if there are no postings for a few days you will know the reason why!] It's pure agony and a bit distracting. So don't tell me about multi-tasking - ma heid, as well as ma feet, 's about burstin'!
Sixthly: Had to go to the clinic to get my annual flu jab but when I presented myself at Reception was told I was a whole week too early! See what happens? As they say in these parts: "Auld age disnae come alane!" What with the failing eyesight, loss of memory, and the bad back!
Which brings me neatly to my abstracts:

Neocolour II on paper, 21x15cm: "Fragments #1"; started by randomly drawing patches of colour and binding them together. A kind of loosening-up exercise, but too stiff for where I want to go.

Neocolour II on paper, 21x15cm: "Fragments #3"; Now we're whistlin' Dixie! Without boundaries these fragments leapt out onto the page.

Neocolour II on paper, 21x15cm: "Fragments #5"; Using a technique here suggested by Melinda - burnishing the Neocolours with a moistened pad, which of course fills in the white gapos between my pastel strokes. I can see uses for this, so thanks Melinda!

Neocolour II on paper, 21x15cm: "Fragments #8": This one struck me as being not too unlike Monet's lily-pond with reflections of the sky and some dark structure. You can purchase this from me for, oh, about £2million? Done - sold to the lady with the lost look on her face!

Neocolour II on paper, 28x20cm: "Last of the Nasturtiums"; Gazing out of the studio window waiting for you-know-who to turn up I see these nasturtiums desparately clinging on to some life when they should in fact be consigned to the compost bin. So I give them one last hurrah. Hurrah!

But still no sign of Leo :o(

Oh, and the bad back? When I stand for long periods at the easel my back starts to give me gyp. So now I'm doing my work sitting on the floor. Ok till one of them big tarantula spiders scurries on by. I wouldn't mind too much but it's the disdainfull look on it's face when it stops to see what I'm doing. Cheeky bandit!

And still no sign of Leo :o((((

Infinity Vortex

Usually I stumble about, each day bringing fresh challenges (which is the same for all of us) and then I have rare moments of clarity (which might be the same for some of us).

It's a strange world.

This is the last of my Subconscious Musings for the present: ([{I've forgotten what number I'd gotten to, so we'll just call it SM#Infinity}]) Nothing special except it brings that series to a close:

Neocolour II on paper, 30x25cm: "Vortex";

Now I can move on.