To wind up this series of what I found in my art folders I have decided to show some sketches – people, plants, animals, and objects – which I drew in and around my house. I have always loved using graphite pencil and this aluminium teapot was a perfect object to draw, given its shape and sheen. I really like the contrast of light and cast shadow. I must have placed the teapot near the edge deliberately so the curve of the table showed in the composition. Continue reading
As I pulled art pad after art pad from my folder and turned the leaves, I smiled, laughed and occasionally grimaced. I found sketches of my children, pets, and articles from around the house. The more I looked the more I realised the stories I’d been telling through my art. One story was perfectly clear. Continue reading
I have been writing a story for sometime now about my father, John Frederick Lingard Fowlds, who died when I was a teen. He never got to know how I, or my brothers and sister turned out as adults, or ever got to meet any of our children, and grandchildren. I began writing his story, fictionalised to some degree, to give the wider family some idea of what kind of person he was. Writing about him has been relatively easy, as he was a funny, warm and loveable man. Very artistic too. The hard part is the loss I still feel for him after so long, and maybe the reason I am taking so long to write his story, is that I don’t wish to lose him again. Continue reading
Villefranche-sur-mer, on the Côte d’Azur
It is always interesting how one idea can trigger off others, and writing about travel diaries got me to thinking about the major unfinished travelogue of mine, which is idling on my computer. I have salved my conscience a little, by uplifting some passages from the longer story and posting them in various blogs. This post is adding to that list, and shall focus on a single day in Villefranche-sur-mer and a fleeting look at some of its art.
The weather changed to wild winds and rain on our last day on Stewart Island. Foveaux Strait was difficult even in fine weather; but foul? There was nothing to do but wait. So, I sat for a while sketching the view out the window, hoping the small plane would not be grounded come morning. My husband and I were continuing on to The Catlins, a stunning coastal region, with wildlife, native bush, and splendid beaches we were itching to explore. Continue reading
View of Oban – images courtesy K. Chamberlain
It was my first trip to our most southern coast and to Stewart Island, a place as famous for the straits which lay between the departure point of Invercargill and the island. The trip over in small plane, however, was superb. To be able to see from a bird’s perspective – just amazing. Stewart Island was everything I thought it would be, from its beaches, bush, Oban’s iconic hotel, the hospitality and the superb fresh blue cod. Then there was the visit to Ulva Island, the three day Rakiura walk, a free day and the return flight to Invercargill. Plus, we had four days outside this in The Catlins. How could I fit all of my stories in just one blog? Continue reading
doll-making paraphernalia
Being New Year, it is customary to make resolutions. Mine are pretty general; just get those unfinished pieces of sewing, artwork and writing completed. I didn’t need to write a list, I have known for too long what needs to be done. So, I started with the calico doll, which has been in bits since my granddaughter stayed last year. Continue reading
Vivienne by Lara Macgregor
I begin with the destination, for there are approximately 650km between Auckland, where I live, and Wellington, the city I drove to last week with my daughter Lara. This was a long-planned road trip to see the phenomenon of the World of Wearable Art show, which so many have seen in its thirty-year history, but has managed to elude my daughter and me. This may have remained the status quo if I hadn’t seen a figurative print in a local gallery earlier in the year that I instantly desired, and wished to hang on my newly-painted studio wall.
Last weekend I was down in Christchurch and was invited to see a play at the Court Theatre. I knew the essence of the story from seeing the film in the early ‘nineties. My son insisted I see it, as he thought it time I experienced a horror movie. Misery the play, like the film, was adapted from the book by Stephen King. I wondered whether the play adaptation might seem dated as years had slipped by since the book and the film appeared. However, the reviews for the play were very positive, and I stepped into the theatre on Saturday night looking forward to a second spooky experience. Continue reading
Having my granddaughters to stay was as enjoyable as it was interesting. I knew the eldest had an iPhone, but what I didn’t expect to find, was how little interest she showed in using it. I mean, most children I see these days have some kind of device they’re staring at, speaking into, or plugged to their ears; whether out walking, sitting with friends, or eating with their families in cafes. The use of these devices is endemic – or is it? Not as far as Phemie and Beatrix were concerned, for they were more interested in following their creative instincts: they drew, wrote, read, and played their days away. Continue reading
ARTISTRY 