I hide them everywhere...

Here is my anonymous entry for A Letter in Mind, a charity exhibition for The National Brain Appeal. The art is currently on display at the Oxo Tower (gallery@oxo) on the South Bank, London. The name of the person who did the work (still won't refer to myself as an artist) was only revealed when the piece had sold so I couldn't show it until now - yes, someone delved into the depths of their sanity and paid good money for this! It's for charity...I'll let you off. 

The theme was "A Sense of Place" and at first glance you're probably wondering what in the name of all that's right and good this jar of critters could mean? It's probably easier to share a bit of the description I sent in with it to be given to the buyer...

‘Lay o’ers to catch meddlers’ is an old Lancashire saying that my Nanna used to use. Literally, it refers to a type of trap but is used in dialect as a warning to a meddlesome person who really ought to mind their own business, an answer to the question “what’s in that drawer, Nanna?” So why the weird thimbles? Well, as a little girl, this is what I imagined a lay o’er to be; the thimbles from the sewing box with beaks and spindly legs (I’m scared of spiders) to run out and nip prying fingers. So my ‘sense of place’ is my past, my roots, my broad Lancashire accent, the source of my imagination, the child within, the dark corner of the cupboard where I keep my secrets – with its own special brand of security guard.

The exhibition is still running until 1st October 2017 and you can also view and purchase the artwork HERE.

None of us can tell...

I'm not a witch or a hippy, I don't believe that quartz can save your soul (I don't believe in souls for that matter) nor do I think that Martians built the pyramids in thirty seconds, but the tiny illustrations on a tarot deck have enchanted me since childhood. I haven't a clue what they're meant to tell you about life (I'm guessing bugger all) I just enjoy looking at the pictures. I suppose The Hermit resonates with me (metaphorically of course), I'm no socialite, I spend hours by myself scribbling away at black skies and if I was small enough to put a shell on my head I probably would...I think that bit is optional advice in the fortune tent. If I had a quieter mind, I might be inclined to illustrate the full set but I'll say with some certainty...unlikely.  

The Hermit, 2017, ballpoint pen on paper

To be cut adrift...

Every now and again I lose myself (not in a good way) and need something to bring me back into the solar system. Drawing nature usually sets me right so this sketchy little envelope woodpecker let me know I've still got something. And I really threw caution to the wind and got the red biro out...

Once I was in a position to re-enter the atmosphere of the ballpoint pen, I took this little tattoo request as well. It was to be inspired by The Killing Moon by Echo and the Bunnymen and needed to include a boat and a lyric. The rest was up to me.

I've always understood it as a song about death and our inexorable (and fast) journey towards it (did I say I was back in a good mood?) so we decided on the reaper in his boat. If he's got one. Has he? Since he's open to interpretation and not real and art is subjective I'm saying yes, he does. 

I liked the idea of repeating the moon so the scythe and boat both became crescents, which all fit neatly into the shape of the moon in the background. Neat doesn't come naturally to me but a plan came together on this occasion... 

Here's the original little sketch I did to throw the ideas out, for once I didn't deviate too far from the original but that's neither a good or a bad thing, just a fact. Apologies for the scrappy, ripped off Instagram pictures but the scanner is also orbiting it's own uninhabitable zone somewhere. I just wanted to talk about drawing for a bit... 

Starman...

Mr Ziggy Stardust (the second) celebrates his twelfth birthday soon and I wanted to capture some of the softer, faded appearance he's taken on over the past couple of years. It's been a while since I've drawn like this, I used to do animal portraits all the time (why!?) but this is the first I think I've ever done in ballpoint. I could have taken it further but I like a drawing to look like a drawing, even when the level of detail needs to be realistic. I don't often give out advice on drawing, I'm no expert and I can't explain how I do it anyway, but one thing I do say is if you want it to be perfect, take a photo instead. Something should be like you after you take your hands away...

The new black...

I've recently made a life changing discovery in the form a new type of black "material" (I think it's paint but I'm not entirely sure) called, well, Black. You may or may not be aware of an ongoing feud between artists Stuart Semple and Anish Kapoor. Anish developed Vantablack, the blackest pigment known to earth aside from the space between stars, Stuart thinks Anish ought to share it and to cut a long story short, ended up inventing his own. Which is incredibly black and has just about saved my hands and my sanity! You can read about the full extent of this madness HERE. 

This little experimental sketch is made using version 2.0 but I also upgraded some of the black skies in my older drawings using the beta version (you can see some of those HERE along with some of the other stuff I've been up to lately). The space between stars coloured with the colour of the space between stars... #sharetheblack

Sentinel 2017, ballpoint pen, acrylic ink and Black v2.0 on paper

Naming, shaming and reclaiming...

This drawing was torturous. It's nothing like I'd hoped it would be. You win some, you lose some. In it's favour, it's made me think about perhaps needing to give things proper names. When I entered my drawings into a gallery exhibition recently, they needed names and it did my head in thinking of them. Art shouldn't need words, that's the whole point! And yet here I am writing about it, don't ever accuse me of being consistent. So, in spite of myself and after reading some Greek mythology as research for my next drawing, I call this "Thanatos," god of natural, gentle and non-violent death. Which is what this drawing was meant to express; being slowly reclaimed by the earth, still beautiful, just in a different way. I like it better already...

Thanatos 2017, black and violet ballpoint pen on paper

My silhouette is stationary...

I was looking forward to a weekend of vegetation. The plan was to get home on Friday and turn into furniture until Monday morning. But I woke up yesterday fizzing with energy, I couldn't keep still and the intense, delicate drawing that's consumed my January so far was definitely not the place to channel it. I needed to chuck ink about with no consideration for the end product (or the upholstery). I've used this technique before and I'm not going to say it works marvellously or that I love it, but it satisfies a need every now and again. I paint the shadows with masking fluid; ink in the whites then remove the masking. So here's my favourite from the cutting room floor, an experimental spaceboy. I've added a bit of black and white pen here and there this morning because I just cant leave things alone. I'm throwing him out there, because you don't know what you've got till someone tells you...

So it started there...

I've recently had these two drawings in a local open exhibition. It's the first time I've ever put anything on display in public (or at home for that matter, although I know there a few "private collections" in existence) but I thought it was about time I stopped being such a massive weirdo about it. I'm painfully shy when it comes to my art and I get in such a state when I'm about to show a drawing to someone, especially if they've asked for it. Which is why I never mentioned that I was showing anything until now...the exhibition ended an hour ago...sorry! One day I might do something normal.