Have you decided?

Inside the Blue Mosque, your eyes are drawn to the beautiful blue tiles that cover every surface except for the floor. You can feel the soft carpet through your socks and for some reason, that feels very comforting. There are crowds of people to navigate through and around and on more than one occasion, I lost my little friend Anna.
We spent a good amount of time in that mosque, heads covered in scarves out of respect for some one else’s religion. In a way I did feel like I was trespassing or that I was looking in on someone else’s faith as a form of entertainment. I am thankful for the opportunity to have been able to experience such wonderful architecture and beauty.
And so, the rest of the day was spent walking, seeing Turkish and Islamic artworks, painting and sketching on location at a coffee shop them back to the Spice Bazaar.
When we returned to the hotel we were asked ‘Have you decided?’ This was in reference to asking about booking a treatment the previous day.
‘Have you decided?’, when out of its original context, is such a powerful question. I mean, while going through the motions of living your day, aren’t you always pondering something? I’m always trying to decide something and mentally rifling through the options, pros and cons. Do I take this course of action and if so, here is the list of things to consider.
‘Have you decided?’ stopped me in my tracks and I immediately knew the answer.

Istanbul: I think you’ve dropped my heart

My friend, Anna, and I have been on sensory overload since stepping outside Ataturk International Airport yesterday.
The architecture, the food, the offerings of ‘something nice for you lady, maybe you want silver’ and so on and around the corner, up hills, down streets, colour colour colour wherever you look.

It’s beautiful.

Our favourite lines so far:

‘You dropped something.’
Me, looking confused.
‘You dropped my heart.’

‘Are you a dream or real?’

Roll your eyes now. We did.

Istanbul. Oh yes. It’s happening.

For the past four years, my good friend Anna and I have been dreaming of taking that big ole jet airliner to Istanbul and finally, oh yes finally, it is going to happen. Isn’t it a wonderful thing when you can turn a ‘wouldn’t it be nice to’ into ‘wasn’t that fantastic when …?’ I am certain that Anna will be the most delightful of travel companions as every time I’ve visited her in Sweden I find the experience easy, fun, restful, exciting, you know, all the things that travelling and seeing friends should be.

Recently I acquired The Art of Urban Sketching, recommended by a couple very talented and lovely artist friends of mine. Several months ago, Pete had given me the wonderful gift of a self-contained watercolour paint set, compact and fit into a tin not much bigger than a post card. And so, we set out into the world of Edinburgh buildings and people and cars and streets and he very kindly helped me to discover the fun of drawing and painting on location. I have since ventured out on my own, cramming myself into a corner table with a good aspect.

There are so many things I like about this book. Of course it is chalk full of glorious illustration after glorious illustration. So many styles represented. So many hours of work and love and care gone into this. I like it that for each illustration, the author has listed materials used and time spent on each sketch. I like it that the contributors to this book are found all over the world. There were some sketches of Kansas City which I particularly enjoyed as that city was my home for two years.

I am excited about this little adventure. Life is a beautiful thing when it conspires to make great things happen. And to follow along from my previous post, this is certainly the way to live it for me. For now. Whilst my siblings are churning out nephew after nephew after nephew, I am doing my own thing and feeling grateful for the opportunity. They are growing families. I am growing adventures.

Here I am, just a handful of days away from Istanbul; my travel book, sketch pads, paint set and anticipation at the ready.

 

Living a life that’s true to yourself

Yesterday I picked up on an article in the Guardian that really made me stop in my tracks, make a cup of tea and consider my life.  I actually spend way too many hours doing this; working from home does afford me a lot of time for introspection.  This can be both a good thing and a very unhelpful thing.  It’s easy to spend an entire morning sewing with my hands, whilst my mind is buzzing around with failed plans, new plans, with a little bit of worry thrown in to keep it interesting.

And so, I read this ‘Top Five Regrets of the Dying‘  by Susie Steiner.  Here’s an excerpt of the bit that meant the most to me:

1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

“This was the most common regret of all. When people realise that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made. Health brings a freedom very few realise, until they no longer have it.”

The last 18 months has seen major change in my life.  I finally decided to take hold of this artistic ambition of mine and make something of it.  The Connecting Thread – a personal psychogeography was certainly a step in the direction of taking my career seriously.  It was life changing, actually.  I was worried about what to do after the tour ended in December 2011, but it seems that I hit the ground running at full speed ahead.  More plans.  Big ideas.  Let’s move this forward at break neck speed because now I feel that to rest, to stop, to sit and keep doing what feels comfortable just is NOT the answer for now.

When I was a teenager living in the middle of all those fields that stretched out into forever in all directions, when I was thinking of the life I wanted to live and dreaming, I told myself I never wanted to live a mediocre existence.  Somehow, without even thinking or planning, my life has been anything but mediocre. I never want to feel that I have half- lived, or that I allowed fear of failure and lack of self belief keep me from living a life that resonates.  And so.  I can almost guarantee that on my death bed, I will not have to worry about the Number 1. regret of the dying.

It hasn’t been easy.  There have been stretches of months and months when to live a life that’s true to myself has been excruciating.  I just had to believe that it would make sense on the other side.

Right.  Now to work.  I’ve got some pieces for a sweet little cafe in the Grassmarket to plan.

Chance-a-lot

Chancelot Mills artwork

This is the first completed work for this summer’s exhibition for Urban Outfitters.  Unfortunately, the colours have not translated exactly in photograph as they look in real life.  They are luminous, bright, and that yellow is like a shock of lemon.  This is the basis of my colour scheme for the other works.  Some will be rockin out in orange, whilst others will be calmed down with that gorgeous teal blue colour that is making the hot colours pop in the above artwork.

I’ve also decided to activate the white areas more; using white as a colour instead of something to outline the other colours.  I think this could work really well.  Today I have been buoyant, full of all shades of excitement as I feel this is like Torness Take 2.  When I created that Torness Power Station piece, I felt like I had achieved something new and fresh, something I hadn’t done for quite some time.  I’ve got that lovin’ feeling again and I’m jazzed as anything.

Crawley WORDfest features artwork

Several months ago I was contacted by one of the organisers for the Crawley WORDfest event. I was in the middle of scheduling commission orders and thought that it would be a bit difficult to squeeze this one in. I am pleased with my decision to add this to my list as I have been completely thrilled to see the artwork used so extensively for their event.

Initially, I was commissioned to create a bespoke piece to be auctioned at their grand finale. Working with different subject matter as well as trying out a new colour scheme (the original work is in tealy greens, beige and a splash of gold orange) and also combining stitched words was very inspiring. They were so pleased with the piece that the crew decided to use the image for their marketing. If you click on this link, you’ll see my work used as a banner for their website as well as a little blurb about my artwork to be auctioned later this week.

Thanks Crawley WORDfest for inviting me along for the ride.

 

Inspiration found at…

London:  Hot and buzzing with people moving and walking and transport zipping and sliding in and out of view.  Sometimes I forget how restful my little corner of the world is in comparison to this goliath.

London did not disappoint.  My friend and I were there to see some scenes and this is what we saw.  First, we popped into Somerset House to take in the Pick Me Up exhibition.  Said Friend had done a bit of research and found this show worth seeing and oh my, I am ever so thankful for his find.  The show was brilliant, not just in bright pinks and eye achingly bright oranges and reds, but in the scope of talent on display.  The official blurb about the show goes like this:

‘London’s original contemporary graphic art fair returns to Somerset House, showcasing the best illustrators, graphic novelists, cartoonists and graphic designers from around the world.  Buy limited editions and affordable art, and enjoy special workshops and weekend events, as well as talks, performances, DJs and portfolio reviews.’

It was fantastic to walk throughout Somerset House, working our way through one room to the next, seeing all manner of artworks.  I very desperately wanted to buy at least ten different pieces, but instead opted to buy a postcard pack of 20 and be content with that.  Some familiar faces were there, or rather, work that I have seen in Edinburgh, names that I recognised.  The ubiquitous-seeming Pugs Not Drugs lady was there and it just so happened that Said Friend was wearing his recently purchased ‘Pugs Not Drugs’ tshirt when we rounded a corner and were confronted with her work.  Nice one, Gemma Carroll, you are certainly getting around. The pieces featured above are from Zim and Zou, Kristjana Williams and others that I very shamefully did not take down the names of.

The main reason for my trip down to London was to see this:

Ha ha.  Just kidding.  But hey, what kind of craziness is this, lurking behind someone’s black iron fence?

This was what I really rocked up to London to see:

Three attempts were made to see this show.  When I arrived mid-morning, I was faced with the prospect of standing in the queue for 2 1/2 to 3 hours.  Hm.  No thanks.  When I showed up for the second time, mid-afternoon, I was given the option of standing in the queue for 2 hours, or perhaps I would like to come back closer to the end of play that day, suffer very little queue waiting AND a better chance to see the artwork due to lack of hoard.  And so, I arrived at 4, waited just under an hour to enter the doors of the Royal Academy and was then wowed with wall after wall of such amazing colour combinations that my brain ached.  It ached at the beauty of it, actually.  The thick laying on of brushstrokes, the colours of previously layed down paint showing through lighter brushed and coloured areas; my brain ached at the effort of understanding.

I stood for an age and a half infront of a late 1990′s piece of the Grand Canyon.  The large artwork first caught my attention as I calmly looked at one scene painted four different times in four different seasons.  As I was walking from Spring to Summer, I turned my head to the right and caught sight of a large red orange canyon.  It was commanding.  It was brilliant.  I eventually walked right up to it, confronted it, allowed it to take up my entire field of vision.  It was glorious.  I paced beside it, considered it up close and from across the room.  That piece was by far my very favourite.

The next hour I spent gliding from room to room, weaving my way through the crowd.  Standing infront of those large works, seeing the view from Hockney’s eyes and imagination and trying to understand how he created his works, was very, uhm, well, it was very peaceful, actually.  Time ceased to matter.  The works absorbed by attentions.  I can’t really describe how peaceful that seemed.  This is what happens to me when I see what I consider to be great work.  Work that absorbs you, somehow plucking you out of your wee little life, enveloping you and shoving aside all the worries that vie for your attention.  Or my attention, rather.  I don’t really know what YOUR worries are of  if you worry at all.

But I digressed and now here I am, at home, back to my flat and the sound of cars babbling up and down the cobbles of my street.

Visiting those exhibitions down in Londontown was worth every penny spent, every minute spent in a line, inching my way closer to something beautiful.