I was woken early this morning by a man at the door who said, "Mr Martin?" I shook my head and mumbled , "No."
"Gaynford Close?" he asked. I shook my head, and mumbled another, "No."
He looked puzzled and stared at the piece of paper in his hand for a while. "Do you know where it is?"
I shook my head .... well, you get the picture.
After he'd gone, I figured it would just be lazy to go back to bed, so I decided I'd go to the Art Club. Last week was the start of the new Wednesday Still Life Group and, although I'd put my name down as an interested party, I couldn't go. Today I would show my support.
As it turned out, I was the Wednesday Still Life Group this week. No one else turned up, so the studio was all mine. I made some coffee, turned on the radio which would generally get a shout of "Put that bloody thing off!" and thought about what I might want to paint in the still life vein.
It's about ten years since I last sat down in front of an object and tried to paint it in one go. I found an old shell, a tea towel and a small table, and off I went. The paint soon got pretty worked up and I had to resort to the palette knife and dollops of Spectragel, but in the end I felt that one and a half hours had been well spent. I think I'll do it again.
Shell (oil on board, 5 x 5 ins)