Signature moves

I  know some very talented people, and one such is artist, writer and all-round creative soul Pamula Furness. A while ago, she drew a lovely picture to go with my short story The Harmonium's Last Chord.

Now she is working in a way I've never seen anyone else do. If you write your name on a piece of paper, she can turn it into a wonderful piece of art. Just look what she did with my signature. In fact, you have to look very closely to see my name at all. I think it would make a rather splendid book plate.

If you would like to see what she can do with your name - or perhaps you'd like someone else's name turned into a unique gift - Pamula is on Facebook; if you'd like to get in touch but can't find her, just let me know.

We can't be good at everything - or can we?

Today, I posted on Facebook:

Well, I've just had my second art class and can say with confidence that I can't draw roses. On the plus side, though, the teacher has put me in charge of the tea and coffee, so I shall have to go back next week.

I was immediately chastised by my artist friend Lorraine for saying can't, to which I replied that what I should have said was that I haven't managed to draw one yet. I've also had some supportive comments about hanging on in there, and I shall stick it out - it's only a five-week course - but it's a real challenge. You know that place in the distance, that place so far away you can hardly see it? Well, just beyond that is my comfort zone.

Why do I put myself through these things? Because I can, that's why. Because unless I try, I'll never know. Do think my timid eight-year-old self struggling to play 'Home Sweet Home' on the piano would have thought it possible that she'd one day play Chopin's 'Raindrop Prelude', with its five-flats key signature? Hell, no! And yet, eventually, she did - and still can.

Theodore Roosevelt said, 'It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed.' I'm still not going to post a picture of my rose, though! These are Van Gogh's - but I bet he couldn't play in D-flat.

Pic: National Gallery of Art, Washington

 

A question of art

For as long as I can remember, my mother has owned a print of a picture called 'After Marriage' by Edouard Debat Ponsan. It shows a young couple strolling down a country lane while behind them walk two cattle, yoked together. The symbolism slaps you in the face, but it is a pleasant enough image.

We have always thought there must be a companion picture and, sure enough, an internet trawl revealed that Ponsan did indeed paint another picture called, 'Before Marriage'. It would be lovely to have a copy of this picture so the pair could be displayed together.

The problem, though, is that there is none to be had, not even for ready money. There are plenty of his other prints on sale, but not the one I want, which is most frustrating. The best I've been able to do it right-click and save an image* of it, but this doesn't really suffice.

So, if you see it for sale anywhere at a rummage sale or if you happen upon it on eBay or some such, be a dear and let me know. Thank you.

*Obviously I have reproduced this image without the permission of the copyright holder. If that is you, forgive me.

CTST, 22 September

Well, that was an odd week. I don't know how many emotions there are, but I'm pretty sure I've touched on most of them during the last seven days. However, I'm finishing the working week with the satisfaction that all my deadlines were met and I've made a decent start at catching up with my boring admin tasks.

One specific celebration is that I went to my first ever art class (that is, the first I've done since leaving school). At 'Pastels For Beginners' I was surprised to learn that the other five people enrolled were not beginners. I was a bit put out at first. Oh no! They'll all be better than me.

On reflection, though, I've decided this gives me an advantage, because I have low expectations and nothing to prove! I got very grubby, but it was good fun and the teacher, Gerald, was very kind to me. My first attempt is here:

Have a good weekend, folks, whatever you're up to.

If you would like to join this bloghop, send your details to laura.6eg@gmail.com  and she will do the necessary.

Pollocks!

What is art? Yes, I know that's a big question, but do you have an answer?

When we were in Northumberland a few weeks ago, we happened upon The Gymnasium Gallery, which is part of Berwick Barracks. The signs outside were advertising 'Bethan Huws: Singing for the Sea', described as an 'Installation' a word that can be intriguing or terrifying, depending on your point of view.

The place was in almost complete darkness. We were the only people there, apart from a little man behind a desk who was wearing earplugs. 'Take a seat,' he said. It's just about to start.' We fumbled our way towards a sofa, which seemed the only option, and waited. The installation was a film made in 1993 featuring eight female Bulgarian singers performing traditional songs on Sugar Sands on the coast off the North Sea. I can't say we enjoyed it, but it was extraordinary, and we both kept mentioning it for the rest of the day. Was it art? Well, Berwick Visual Arts certainly thought so.

Last weekend we were at a more conventional art event, the private view evening of the Fellowship of  Professional & Amateur Artists Annual Art Exhibition held at a local museum, where the fare was not only more traditional, but also to my mind more accessible. If part of the function of art is to communicate, I'd say this wins hands down over wailing women (no disrespect intended).

Last night it was my turn to be the artist, when I went to a Paint Like Pollock event at Corby Rooftop Arts Centre. I was so far out of my comfort zone it was but a distant memory. Nevertheless, armed with a plastic pinny and a generous supply of paint, I went for it with gusto, and d'you know what? It was great fun!

The whole floor in the working area had been covered with plastic sheets and we had to take our shoes off, so we didn't paddle paint on to the unprotected carpet in the rest of the gallery. We had been instructed to take along a pair of old shoes to paint - I'd taken some silk wedding shoes I'd picked up at a charity shop  - and we put them on a canvas and just splattered away! The result of my efforts is pictured at the top of this post.

Then we had a go at painting shoes with a brush, in a more conventional style. These are mine:

And these are my feet by the end of the evening.

So, did I create a work of art?

Creative outlets

Image: Morguefile.com

I seem to be being offered outlets for creativity all over the place at the moment. Hot on the heels of the artist-led walkabout a couple of weeks ago, I went on a similar excursion on Sunday with storyteller Jo Blake Cave, who told us tales past and present about the Corby woods. I came home feeling inspired to write my own stories.

Prior to that, I was invited to take part in a dance taster session with choreographer Neil Paris -  'No pressure to commit to anything: just come along and have a bit of fun!' I was told. Well, I've been caught like that before! Of course, a taster is going to lead to something and sure enough there is a show in May, but before that we have to come together and create the piece. Actually, it was fun and I found I was able to throw myself into it pretty well, considering how controlling and controlled I  usually am. I wasn't entirely comfortable when asked to interpret four key words - fearless, empower, breathe and secret - through movement, but I did my best.

Elsewhere, the Weaving Words writing group came up trumps again with some fantastic stimuli (stimuluses?) for writing. I thought I was doing well. Then this morning, I was reading a couple of chapters of A Life Discarded by Alexander Masters and there on page 159 is the sentence:

'He mows the grass until it bleeds.'

How am I supposed to come up with something as fabulous as that?

Making good use of my time

My weekend

They say you're a long time dead, so with that in mind and given that much of what is going on in the world is beyond my control, this weekend I have been doing things that make me feel good.

On Friday evening, I ventured out for a walk in the dark around East Carlton Country Park, as part of the 'Our Woods' project that is going on in Corby at the moment. We were guided around by artist Carry Akroyd, observing the shape of the trees, the moonlight and its effects, the sounds, the smells, pausing every now and then for contemplation and discussion.

Then it was back to a hut for tea and cake and the chance to be creative. Well, I did my best at drawing, but in the end my writerly instincts took over and I crammed down as many words as I could think of inspired by what we had just experienced. I shall, I hope, turn them into something in due course. It was great fun and there was absolutely no pressure to do anything especially arty. It was an exercise in simply finding joy in creativity.

There were a few chores on Saturday, but I spent the afternoon doing some yoga with lovely teachers Jenny and Atim, focusing on boosting the immune system and nurturing ourselves in preparation for winter. There was flapjack and hot spiced apple tea, and a lovely supportive atmosphere. The hoop in the picture is made from newspaper and was employed in various balancing exercises!

Then it was a quick turnaround before dashing out to the Rolling In The Aisles comedy night, where headliner John Gordillo had us - you know - rolling in the aisles.

Today, I'm taking it easy. I've had a lovely walk and a good session with the Sunday papers - and I'm not planning on doing much else with the rest of the day.

Sometimes I sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits.