First art of 2023

Collages on gelliplate base

I’m a fairweather outdoor sketcher and have failed to build on my summer streak of daily sketchbook sessions in the park. It’s a shame, but I loathe the damp and cold of English winters.

So back to warm slippers, collage and cups of tea indoors.

More sketchbook pages

I treated myself to a gorgeous sketchbook from Pith – the paper is thick, and sturdy enough to take watercolour or ink washes; it opens flat and it comes in lots of cool colours.

So far I have only done a few quick sketches of trees in my local park, but perhaps I’ll travel further than my current one mile radius at some point.

In fact, the thematic connection between all of the art I’m making at the moment is the relatively small geographical territory I occupy.

If you read about the UN plans for for future cities, you’ll see that it’s how they envision us all living under net zero – with everything you need within 15 minutes walk of your home.

My one and only oil painting

I have no idea what I’m doing.

I would love to be able to paint, but I need lessons.

Someone who does know how to paint and does so beautifully is Andrew Cranston, whose work is on display at the Modern Art gallery in London. I would love to see them, but it entails visiting London – a city I now detest. I may just whizz in and out at some point.

Anyway, this is in no way an attempt to copy Mr Cranston’s work, I was just inspired by him to explore the idea of representing a dream-like nostalgic state through paint.

Messing about

These possibly fit into the category of art therapy and are based around two photographs I found of myself as an infant. I’m from the 1970s which means that pattern and colour are burned into my brain. Clashing colours and patterns were absolutely permissible in working class homes of the era.