Parcelforce lets me down

I used Parcelforce to deliver my paintings to the Lloyd Gill Gallery. This is the third time I've used them and the previous two times I found the service relatively satisfactory. I did have to call them on the first occasion when they failed to turn up to collect the parcel within the "window" I'd given them, and sure enough the same thing happened again this time. The advice I was given when I phoned up was that the "window" is only a guideline.

Leaving aside the relatively pointless idea of offering a window which can be ignored, what has annoyed me this time is that although I paid for next day delivery, the parcel, which was collected on Friday, was not delivered until today. This, despite my having paid an additional £12 premium for a Saturday delivery.

I've asked for a refund. We'll see what happens.

Curator's Choice

Blimey, I've been quiet, haven't I? It seems that a great deal has been going on, but none of it found it's way into Boogie Street. A lot of it was just stuff, not lending itself to writing about, but one or two things should have been mentioned.

Most importantly, especially as I sit here waiting for the Parcelforce man to turn up, is the invitation to show some work at the Lloyd Gill Gallery in Weston-Super-Mare. I know, Weston-Super-Mare! You can't get much further from Gateshead, really, but one of the wonders of the Interweb is that people who might otherwise not see your work get to do so. This invitation is down to my exposure on Flickr.

Lloyd Gill, the Director of the gallery, selected the following paintings for showing in the upcoming show, Earth-Water-Concrete-Steel-Brick:



Building by a Motorway
(Oil on canvas, 91 x 91 cms)


Newgate Street
(Oil on canvas, 66 x 90 cms)


Millennium Bridge, London
(Oil on canvas, 50.8 cm x 50.8 cms)


Aegean Hideaway
(Oil on canvas, 50.8 x 50.8 cms )

The exhibition starts on 26th May and runs until 19th June. If you live in the area, why not drop for what looks an enjoyable show? Sorry I can't be there to talk to you.

Old Drawings #37

Ammonite Wall (Charcoal, coloured Conte, on A1 cartridge)

There are so many things needing my attention at the moment, that posting an Old Drawing seems the best way to keep blogging.

I found this wall in 1996 in Lyme Regis, a town famous for its fossils. I liked the vertical arrangement so much, I had to do a drawing.

Prague Tram No.2

Prague Tram No.2 (Oil on canvas, 24 x 24 ins)

I must try to get a better photograph of this painting, but when I took this one, the paint was still wet and terribly reflective. Coupled with the tendency of this monitor at least to do strange things with reds, this may not be too representative of the work.

The show opened at Preston Hall on Saturday. It was a fine sunny day and there was a garden show open in the grounds, so the awful possibility that no one would come to look wasn't fulfilled. There was a respectable trickle of people walking through the exhibition space. Admittedly, some were simply walking through to see where the door at the other side of the room led (nowhere), and others were looking for things to keep their kids amused; or the opposite - "Come away, Tracey, it's only some paintings!" And as usual, there was the sniggering as fingers were pointed at the prices on the labels - "£400!"

But overall, the response was good and I was pleased to be told how much some people liked my trams and how two of them - Nos.1 & 2 - reminded one person of Edward Hopper. I told her I was a big Hopper fan and she said, "Me too, but now I'm a Harry Bell fan as well".

Prague Tram No.3

Prague Tram No.3 (Oil on canvas, 24 x 24 ins)

This has proven to be the most difficult in the series to complete, mainly, I think, because of the lighting conditions within the painting. At the time of day represented, colours lose much of their strength and I found this quite challenging to work through.

Nevertheless, I think it works well enough, and I'm particularly pleased with the way the windows give a suggestion of little abstract paintings in their own frames, running across the bottom half of the painting like the predella to an altarpiece.

Auchterarder: 6th Day

Rock Form (Pentel Brushpen, watercolour, A4 sketchbook)

First of all, a Happy St George's Day to Englishmen and women everywhere, whatever your colour or creed. This is your day, even if, like me, you're somewhere where the more exuberant display of celebration might not be diplomatic.

I did this drawing at the quarry on the way up to Craig Rossie, too. The more I stared at the rock face, the more evident it became that there was a triangular, or pyramidal shape in the fractured rock. So I drew it with the Pentel Brushpen, losing myself regularly in the splits and shadows until I'm sure this isn't in any way an accurate record of the rocks.

The watercolour wash was an afterthought, but one I'm pleased with.

Auchterarder: 5th Day

Craig Rossie Quarry (Coloured Conte, sketchbook)

Mainly a solitary day today, up in the quarry. Tony was discernible some way off, only by his silver-white hair showing above the heather as he sat and painted the view from the slopes of Craig Rossie.

I opted for these rocks at the mouth of the quarry. I was taken by the light glittering through the fresh leaves on the shrub growing out of the leaves, but I should have known that I'd not really be able to capture the effect with coloured Conte. Nevertheless, I'm not entirely displeased with it - there's a chunky feel to the rocks that appeals to me more than the shrub did. I should have replaced the shrub with one of the spindly trees that grew nearby.

Auchterarder: 4th Day

St Serf's, Dunning (Pencil, watercolour, A4 sketchbook)

We split into the same two groups again today (something of an unwelcome practice, I think), and we three went into Auchterarder for groceries, then investigated two pubs in the area in the only sensible way - a pint in each.

Across from the Kirkstyle Inn (good pint of Thrappledouser) is St Serf's Church and a man there will come out of his little hut to tell you more than you thought you might possibly want to know about this lovely old building. He's a treasure, absolutely wasted there, but perhaps quite content.

Anyway, he encourages artists to paint and draw in and around the church, so we sat down in the churchyard, in the glorious sunshine, and I produced this small effort. I've said before, I'm no watercolourist, but it does come in handy for "colouring in".

Auchterarder: 3rd Day

Plant Stalks, Shinafoot (Pilot disposable fountain pen, sketchbook)

I've been checking out the quarry but so far haven't found what I think I'm looking for. In particular, there's no special motif I'd like to spend some time exploring, although there are probably rock forms that might repay looking at again. Today, however, I drew these plant stalks in the garden.

Auchterarder: 1st Day

Branches, White Moss Loch (4B pencil, watercolour, sketchbook)

We arrived at Shinafoot Studios around 4.30 on Friday night and after settling in, went out again looking for a good restaurant. Unfortunately, Auchterarder is something of a restaurant desert. we settled on an allegedly Italian place whose menu included only pizza and two other Italian dishes. My spaghetti all marinara was really well cooked, but I had to wait an age to find that out and overall the restaurant was uninspiring.

We came home up the windswept main street and paused for a moment to watch the local kids playing Toss the Dustbin Across the Road.

Today we split into two groups, one to check out the bridge at Kinkell, the other to walk up into the hills and find the quarry at Craig Rossie. I decided to follow on a little later (I'm really not an early morning person), taking the quarry route, but somewhere I took a wrong turning. Ending up on a long boring rock-strewn track, winding through freshly tilled and thus empty fields I emerged at a farm where all the domestic and farming detritus in the whole of Scotland had come to rest.

Or so I thought, but later I found that the rest of the area was a fly-tipper's paradise. There was a golf course and there were colossal prosperous-looking farms, and there were also car parts, Coke bottles, mattresses, sheets of corrugated iron, tractor tyres, car tyres, plastic bags, garden chairs, dead Xmas trees, in every ditch and hedgerow. The good folks of Perthshire should be desperately ashamed of themselves.

I came to White Moss Loch which boasted many water birds, although I could see few of them from the track that skirted part of the lake, but allowed access only by climbing over a pile of plastic tubing (various sizes) and ended at a breeze-block and corrugated asbestos building which had been bulldozed then allowed to crumble into the landscape.

I did this drawing while randy mallards chased one another round the lake and a swan came by looking for sandwiches, but I had none for him.

Prague Tram No.1

Prague Tram No.1 (Oil on canvas, 24 x 24 ins)

I'm in a mad whirl at the moment, trying to finish this Tram Series. Now No.1 is done, but tomorrow I'm off for my annual Compo & Clegg Painting Week. This time we're in Scotland, staying at Margaret Evans's Shinafoot Studios in Auchterarder. When I get back, I'll have only a few days to finish the other two Trams.


Tram No.2 (work in progress)



Tram No.3 (work in progress)

I may not have time to post again before I leave tomorrow, so be good while I'm gone.

Another Blogday Rolls Around

Yes, five years since I began this blog. And against all expectations, it shows no sign of going away. Happy me.

To the Trams, via the Station

Night Station (work in progress)

Although I went into the studio with every intention of working exclusively on the Tram Series, I discovered a desperate need to revisit the Night Station first. Of course, given my basic level of disorganisation, I couldn't lay my hands on the reference material for this picture, so I could only go this far with it today (I found the references later and am not prepared to embarrass myself by saying where).

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Prague Tram No.1 (work in progress)

Prague Tram No.3 (work in progress)

I'm having reservations about No.3. I may rethink the livery.

Short Stay Among the Oaks

Trees at Sawrey (work in progress)

I was hoping to get a lot done in two days at the Club this week, but I wasn't counting on being asked for advice on a painting, nor on the building being closed tomorrow for Good Friday. I'm afraid I lose track of public holidays now that my life doesn't depend on being given time off by the Man.

And I must emphasise that I don't by any means resent being asked for advice. Thinking about other people's paintings can be really helpful in formulating your own ideas of what is right and what not so right, and putting them into words.

Still, it means I made slow progress on the Trees today. I've removed some of the surplus marks from the grassy planes, which I do think helps to keep the eye in the essential areas of wall, rocks and trees. I'll just have to wait until next week to do more.

Meanwhile, since I won't be at the Club tomorrow, it'll be back to the trams.

Old Drawings #36

Fuse Box 1996 (Charcoal on A1 cartridge paper)

I think I've mentioned before that, every year, I used to spend a couple of drawing and painting weekends at Ford Castle in Northumberland. Most of the time the weather was good, but now and again the rain would set in and the best thing we could do then was work inside the castle. Rarely content with drawing things that everyone else found attractive (perverse, I think I was called more than once), I drew this fuse box on one such rainy day.

But on another, I was taken with this meeting going on in the Main Hall, so got out my sketchbook.



Ford Castle Meeting (2B mechanical pencil, A4 sketchbook)

Woodman, Spare that Axe

Trees at Sawrey (work in progress)

I wasn't sure that I'd be able to work over this much today, because the paint was wet, but I've found that using quite thick paint on the brush, mixed with a good bit of Liquin, allows me to slide the paint over the lower layers, without too much mixing of the layers.

The crimson passages were too insistent, I found, and most of them have been taken down with oranges and browns. One or two remain, mainly on the tree trunks, and I'll see what I want to do with them next week.

I hadn't decided yesterday whether I wanted to include the fence posts, but at the last minute I put them in today. I think it was the right decision - they help to lead into the picture and provide a counter-rhythm to the trees on the right.

This being a slight departure for me in terms of subject matter and treatment, I asked Pat what she thought when she called into the Club at the end of the day. She liked it from a distance, but thought it might be too busy close to. Maybe she's right; I'll have to think about it. I suppose I could reduce the number of facets and planes into greater flat areas of paint.

I know it's difficult for you to see it from a distance and close to, but what do you think?

Can't see the wood for the trees

Trees at Sawrey (work in progress)

Part of my current malaise, I think, is due to a general dissatisfaction with what I'm doing. Or at least, a failure to perceive the direction it's actually going in. It's not so much that I don't like what I've been doing -- I do, and will be happy to show it anywhere -- but that I'm unsure what it is that I like about it and how I should build on that.

I decided to get myself to the Club today, but didn't feel like working on the two pictures I have there, so took along an old 24 inch canvas I knew was never going to amount to anything. Over the old painting I started this one of some trees I found at Sawrey last year. It was fun working over the very textured old paint layers, and I let myself go with a vermilion red as a substitute for the greens that should have been there. However, I think I'm going to have to tame the colours somewhat - I'm working out of my comfort zone here and will need to curb the exuberance before I'll be satisfied with it.

Poise

Fibretip with digital colour.

I haven't felt much like contributing to Illustration Friday for the last few weeks, but I stirred myself for this one. This is for the current brief - Poise.

Prague Tram No.4

Prague Tram No.4 (Oil on canvas, 24 x 24 ins,)

The muse returns! Or at least, the necessity to complete one of the Tram Series so that I might photograph it for the Preston Hall show publicity asserted itself.

I finished this one today, after working on it, on and off, over the last three days. There's the usual problem with reflections on wet paint which throw the colours in the sky out a little, but otherwise this is a decent photograph. I chose this one to finish on the basis that it's more colourful and therefore lends itself to publicity in brochures and the like, but there's no guarantee that it'll be chosen from the four images submitted. Just have to wait and see.

Getting this one finished makes me want to move the others along, so the prospect for work next week is good. Hurrah!

Old Drawings #35

Archways (Charcoal, compressed charcoal and pastel on cartridge paper)

These arches lie at the Newcastle end of the Tyne Bridge and carry the main London to Edinburgh rail line. I think when I was making the drawing (probably in 1996), a hint of Cubism crept into the building on the right.

Inertia

As Beaudelaire knew, the painter who cannot begin to paint, and the writer who puts off writing, endure a living death of the spirit. As the seasons change, they are tormented by the combined eagerness of the senses and the passage of time. Frequently they are aware that everything around them gives urgent signs that this is the very moment at which to begin work, that this is the minute of all minutes that they owe it to themselves to preserve. No task is impossibly long or impossibly hard except the one that the painter or poet does not dare to begin. Bomberg, through no fault of his own, frequently put off starting. There were long periods when he was too despondent, too discouraged, to paint at all. But by delaying what has to be done one runs the risk of never being able to do it. Prolonged unhappiness, as Chateaubriand says, has the same effect on the soul as old age on the body: "one can no longer be active; one goes to bed."

-- Christopher Neve, The Unquiet Landscape

Old Drawings #34

Devon Blocks (Charcoal, compressed charcoal on cartridge paper, 21 x 33 ins.)

I did some tinkering with my Tram series today, but nothing you'd be able to see in a photograph. I'm still feeling off-colour and finding it difficult to get into my work properly. So, it's back to Old Drawings again.

I came across these old concrete blocks somewhere on the Devon Coast Path in 1996. I was on holiday there for a couple of weeks and the walks along the cliffs were spectacular. The decaying concrete of an old gun emplacement was bound to attract me, so I made this drawing, but in the finished work I exaggerated the size of the blocks to make them seem almost Neolithic.

Shortly after we passed them, we were caught in the blackest, heaviest storm I've ever encountered - you can see it approaching in the distance.

Back to the Club

Church and Rooftops (work in progress)

Back to the Club today to work on this Mallorca painting. I decided I didn't like the busy sky and replaced it, at least for now, with this overall blue. More work on the tiles, some extra layering on the walls and some sharpening up of edges. I'm relatively happy with the way this is going, but my real interest is in the Tram pictures at home.

I may have bitten off a little too much today. I feel really tired, so tomorrow I may give the extra day at the Club a miss; but if I stay at home, I suspect the lure of the trams will be too great.

Two More Makes a Set

Tram 3 (oil on canvas, work in progress)



Tram 4 (oil on canvas, work in progress)

I discovered from the doctor that you can't get any medication for a prolonged cough if your lungs are uncongested. I'm delighted to report that my lungs are indeed perfectly clear, so I have to just cough my way to health. Meanwhile, life and art must go on, so it's back to the trams for me.

Very roughly blocked in, but these two new paintings mean I have four paintings of Prague Trams on the go. I suspect these four will complete the Tram Series, but you never know. The composition in each of these new ones interests me. They're put together from separate images - trams and street scenes - but seem to work and are further examples of a kind of whirling vortex that crops up occasionally in my work.

Someone Cares

Although I'm generally reluctant to get into the award meme thing, it is nice to be recognised by my fellow bloggers. This award was created by James Parker to show his appreciation of fellow bloggers and Trevor Lingard has kindly awarded it to me. I'm grateful to him for it and I'll be displaying it in the sidebar, but I hope no one will be offended if I don't now follow the rules and award it to someone else.

Tramcar to Sanity

Tram 2 (work in progress)

Does this mean my cold has gone? No, it certainly doesn't; indeed, I've been coughing and sneezing for over a week now. However, I can't get a doctor's appointment until next week and I'm acutely aware of our impending Figure8 show at Preston Hall, for which I have no finished work. So let's see what a couple of hours of breathing in white spirit fumes does for me.

It looks like there's going to be a Tram Series, to follow on from the Vaporetto Series. This is how my second Prague tram looks after an hour and a half today. There's still quite a bit to do in adjusting the sky and making more of the church (it's actually the Church of St. Ludmilla, in Namesti Miru Square). I think the curve of the windows has been exaggerated by the camera lens, but I'll check on that later. I also want to make sense of some of the marks inside the tram - some of those should look like people!

Gosh, but it feels good to be painting again!

No Energy

This cold is making life difficult. I try to brush it off as "only a cold", but it's interrupting my sleep and sapping all energy. On top of that, I have to stand by while the Window Replacement Men go about their work, then - with the expert help of Pat, I hasten to add - clean up after them. It's not a lot of fun this week.

So please, bear with me until this has all passed. I promise that Normal Service Will Be Resumed As Soon As Possible.

Go Moly!

What a thrill! I signed up for an International Moleskine Sketchbook Exchange last month and today the first of my collaborators' molys dropped through the letterbox and onto the mat. The theme of this exchange, Moly_x_63 , is Totem Pole. We each start with the bottom of a totem pole (or the top) and then pass the Moleskine on to the next in line, who adds a bit to the top (or bottom). And so on till the totem pole is finished and comes back to its originator. It's a bit like the Surrealists' Exquisite Corpse, except that we get to see what we're adding to.

That's the beginning of my totem up there, which I'm about to mail off to Anna in Stockholm. The one that arrived today came from Jenn in Concord, Massachusetts.

Sometimes it takes a little of this kind of fun to ensure you feel connected to the world.

Old Drawings #31, #32 and #33

I was woken from my slumbers by the call of the lesser spotted scaffolder this morning. Can window replacement be far behind? Not far at all - Monday, in fact. I'm having all the windows at the back, including the studio window replaced with uPVC.

This intrusion of scaffolding, coupled with my first heavy cold of the winter, meant I didn't go to the Club today. This winter is seriously affecting my work production, although on the positive side, it's giving me ample time for further reflection.

So, with no new work to show you, Old Drawings steps into the breach. These are from a drawing workshop I went to (at the Art Club, as a matter of fact, before I became a member) in 1996. The one above was done using graphite sticks and white spirit on cartridge paper. An interesting method, but a smelly one, and probably not particularly good for your health.



This one was simply charcoal on cartridge paper.

And this was made with a bamboo pen dipped in Indian ink applied to cartridge paper.

Parcel Post

When I was very young I used to be fascinated watching assistants in shops tie up parcels with string. In those days before parcel tape, everything seemed to be tied up with string. Rolls of wallpaper seemed to me to be the most difficult, but the shop assistant could tie up three or four rolls of wallpaper in the blink of an eye and provide a handle to carry it with. Miraculous! All gone now, of course, except in the luxury goods market, where there's always someone who can tie a bit of ribbon into a fancy bow.

I was reminded of this when I came to tie up my Disintegration Parcel.

Through a late reading of Annie's Ink Haven, I found out about Seth's Disintegration project. I should have been aware of it already, but since the failure of my RSS Feeds system, I've been missing out on those bloggers who don't have the Followers facility (a Boon and a Godsend).

Anyway, I thought this was a triffic idea, so decided today to make up my own parcel. It's not a particularly inspired choice of materials, but in my defence I claim my current state of coughing and sniffing (my first cold of the winter). Inside my parcel is

• a printout of my scary self-portrait
• a leopard skin print paper bag
• a sheet of orange tissue paper
• a leaf from my grapefruit tree
• a coffee filter with contents
• some rusty screws
• some pieces of onion skin
• some wool
• part of a charcoal drawing
• a sample of watercolour paper
• a piece of a coloured drawing
• all wrapped in a large piece of sturdy cartridge paper with part of a painting on it
  

And here it is tied up as best I could with finest string from Austin, Tx, and stamped with my old Mail Art Reuse Me stamp.



Finally, here it is hanging in the old pink cherry tree (now just as likely to have to be recycled itself, unfortunately). The jackdaws and magpies may have a go at it, because it's hanging near the bird feeders, but I think it might survive. Just after I hung it, it started to hail. I take this as a Good Omen.

On May 1st, the parcel will be opened.