I am sure that most of you find that some situations get in the way of a commitment you made to continue working on a project come what may? Well, that’s me folks! Yes, I have been procrastinating about getting stuck in to my art work, and I apologise to those who may have been waiting to see progress on my Memoir in Pictures (a working title). I’m only a few pages along from when I last wrote about the book, although I have made some inroads as to how I wish to present my pages, and to execute the finished product – as in taking it from scruffy pencil sketches to the finished product.
Tag Archives: reflection
A residency of some kind

Trying to discover why I had persisting pain around my mouth, head, et al. I went to see a doctor, a dentist, a jaw chap, a periodontist and a physiotherapist. After many months I had a scan to look at my sinuses, to find a large cyst was blocking my nasal passage. After fourteen months, from when I began this path of discovery, I am now booked in for an operation. To say that I’m not looking forward to having my nasal cavities explored is an understatement. Still, through all this annoying daily pain, I decided to find things which would take my mind off, well, myself.
I had read about an art residency in the French countryside, which appealed greatly, as Kerry and I had stayed in the area a long time ago, and loved it.

Time Travel

Looking back, it seems, becomes more common as the years advance, for when I read of a blogger friend’s adventure to Nepal in 1982, I was immediately transported to my own travel experience in 1992. Early that year I read an advertisement for small group walking tours in the foothills of Mt Everest, Solukhumbu, Nepal. It so appealed; lots of walking, wonderful scenery, a different culture, this was for me! And, I should add, this would be my first trip overseas. I wrote to the company immediately, received the information, and three weeks later I landed in Kathmandu along with my walking buddies; Diane the leader, Jill, Annie and I – strangers until we met at Auckland airport! Note: Solukhumbu is the area where New Zealander Sir Edmund Hillary had built schools, hospitals and given other support, since he had famously scaled Mt Everest alongside Sherpa Tensing in 1952.
New Beginnings

Hi to all. I do hope your Christmas break has been relaxing and you are once again immersed in your art, work, reading, or whatever moves you most. While our holidays are behind us here, there have been many disruptions to my intended outpouring of my art and writing project. I decided this week to give you some idea of why I’ve stalled on my most adventurous art project yet – a graphic novel. I decided to write myself back into this project, and here is some of what I wrote…
The beauty around us

These past months have seen me with numerous dental and periodontist visits and quite frankly I’ve not felt great – hence the lack of scintillating posts. However, Kerry and I recently visited a nearby community garden at Forrest Hill (Grow Forrest Hill), to see how differently other gardens are run, compared with our Devonport community garden (Ngataringa Organic Garden). While he chatted to members, I took photos of some beautiful flowering plants. I love nature and colour, and focussing on beautiful colourful subjects is a good way to avoid ruminating on one’s troubles I’ve found. I do hope you enjoy the images I’ve selected.
A memorable read

Recently I began helping out at a second-hand bookshop, and came across Memoirs of a Geisha, by Arthur Golden. The title was familiar, but after reading the foreword, decided I’d missed reading it somehow. It was published in 1998, three years before I went to live and work in Japan.
I knew little of the country when I arrived, but when It came to time leave, the place and its people were a part of me.
I made close friends, and was invited into their homes, to enjoy meals, attend art classes, and cultural events – such as New Year celebrations and rituals. These memories floated through my thoughts as I read Memoirs of a Geisha.
Well, there is a little progress

Last time I talked about my memoir with pictures, I showed a few pencil sketches of some pages I had nutted out. I have now sketched more pages, attempting to make a storyboard of the tales I wished to tell, or portray. This bit was easy. I love sketching in pencil and plotting scenarios based on my experiences when young, that was no trouble what so ever.
I studied other graphic novels to get a feel with how I wanted mine to look: a mixture of double pages in colour or black and white, and several pages with smaller images, as you might see in a comic, with speech bubbles etc., But then, I decided I should do at least one trial page in full colour as I imagined the larger pages should look. But, what medium to use?
A focus on line to achieve form


As I mentioned in my last post, Thursday would be the last of four Life drawing sessions held locally. Again we started with numerous quick sketches and we were encouraged to keep to pencil throughout. But I couldn’t resist using willow charcoal for a few the poses, as I particularly like the medium. I did use pencil, but it didn’t respond so well to the reasonably thick cartridge paper I had brought with me. The above poses were only a couple of minutes long, and are mere flashes of line on paper.
Looking at light on form

I went to my first Life Drawing classes aged fourteen with my dad. My brother and sister also attended at various times too. Dad was passionate about art and thought one of his children might catch the bug. However, I was the only one who ended up at art school, where I continued to sketch the figure. It was something I loved doing then, and have continued doing from time to time, ever since.
The above sketch was part of an exhibition of my figure studies completed that year. I hired a model, and worked in a studio above my garage to produce the work. It was great to have a comfy sofa the model could relax in, which resulted in many nice long poses. All the work sold, which was good, but when I realised I wished to keep one (the above image) for myself, on enquiry I found my agent had sold it that very day. Lucky I had taken a photo.
It all started in Amsterdam

Amsterdam was where we would join the Viking Sigrun (they call it a ship, not a boat) and the other approximately 179 others who had chosen this trip up the Rhine for a week’s voyage. Kerry and I chose to arrive early in Amsterdam, giving us time to meet friends, and to rid ourselves of jet lag, after our lengthy flights from New Zealand. Over 36 hours should you wonder.