Sunday, 29 July 2012

How I Horrified My Art Teacher

Yes, I know it's a dramatic title for this post, but sometimes in life, you've just gotta do what you've gotta do.

Even if it means horrifying the best art teacher in the whole wide world.

Please know that if there was any way around it, of course, I would never deliberately try to horrify Ms Kathy.  And I promise that I do feel guilty.

The thing is, I just had to do it.  Even if it means that Ms Kathy wails "NoooooOOOOOOoooooo Kate, please - Don't!".

You see, I painted this face of a lady at last Thursday's art class.  And Ms Kathy was very proud of me. She thought that I'd captured a real sense of mood.  (She was also proud that I'd managed to paint her nose so it didn't look freakishly weird and that I'd painted her eyes so they actually looked like eyes.)

Yay!  Progress!  I guess practice really does make a difference.  I looked at her little face and thought to myself "Not bad for an hour and a half Kate.  Not too bad for a beginner."

So all was going great. Fantastic even!

For a moment.

It was all going splendidly well until I looked past her little face and then noticed how it covered barely a quarter of the canvas I had painted her on.  I then realised very much to my dismay that her little face was way too small in relation to the size of the canvas.  

She looked like a pimple on a pineapple.  Hmmmm. Or is the saying "pimple on a pumpkin"?

I don't know.  Regardless of what object the pimple was on, I realised that suddenly her little face on my big canvas Just. Wasn't. Gonna. Work.


So I proclaimed at the end of the class I'm going to paint over her and start again.

That was the moment Ms Kathy's eyes widened and those fateful words left her lips.

The thing is, in that moment I realised that sometimes, even when something is 'good' I've just got to make the decision to trust myself that I can do better.  

At least I hope so.

Otherwise I'll be kicking myself.

By the time you read this, she shall no longer exist on canvas.   Please, don't be sad.  You can stop by here and visit her any time you like.  That's the joy of the internet.

Think of it this way - she was a pimple and she had to be popped.

Whilst this can be a momentarily painful thing to do, please know that I'm very proud that just for a little while, she was MY PIMPLE.  And she was a darn good one too.

Thanks for stopping by and seeing what I've been up to (zit analogies and all).

Stay tuned for another update in the near future,


Saturday, 21 July 2012

Mmm... What a Delicious Pear!

Goodness me, I really must stop reading Shades of Grey.

After reading numerous double entendre's for the last couple of hundred pages, this book has now affected me so that my blog post titles have become smutty.  Sorry about that.  This must stop, or what will become of my blog?  I shudder to consider the notion! Think pure and pristine thoughts, Kate.  Pure and pristine.  Perhaps to counter the filthiness, I should go back to reading Enid Blyton with Dick, John and Fanny?

Today's little offering is an acrylic still life of Pears in Blue Bowl.  I know, my creativity for a painting title is utterly astounding, isn't it?  I painted it in Miss Kathy's art class on Thursday over a couple of hours.  It was very relaxing and I really enjoyed the experience.  I'm now trying to think of what fruit I should paint next.  A banana perhaps?  An artichoke?  Now that's an interesting thought!

I can honestly say that after my experience, I'd encourage everyone to grab a couple of pears and give still life painting a try.  You never know, you may just find your inner goddess!

'Till my next artistic adventure,


Monday, 16 July 2012

Not Happy, Kate!


I hope this finds you all well and happy!  Life has been chaotically busy these past few weeks, but after receiving a lovely gift of some oil pastels today, I felt like I really needed a quick art "fix" to restore my equilibrium.  Thank you very much secret gift giver for such a fun gift! :-)

I wasn't sure initially what I was going to paint today, so I was wandering around my house, art pastels and paper pad in hand when I spied my lovely old furry man - Mister Ninny.  Mister Ninny is 96 years old in people years and in his old age is starting to get ever so slightly cantankerous.  When the kids complain about his (c)attitude issues, I remind them that if they were his age, they'd probably be feeling pretty darn well cross at the world too. Particularly when presented with a bowl full of boring old Whiskers day after day.

"Hello, darling Mister Ninny!" I cooed, reaching out my hand for a scratch between the ears.  He promptly gave me an utterly disdainful look and then slowly (he is getting close to receiving a letter from the queen after all) and deliberately turned around and sat stock still, thereby presenting me with his backside.

I knew what he was doing. 
 I'm sure he knew what he was doing.
Mooning me.  

I guess he considers it payback for the seventeen odd children who were running around my house yesterday at one of my children's birthday parties, causing all sorts of noise and disrupting his attempted gentle slumber at the foot of my bed.

Mister Ninny was painted quickly in around 20 minutes today.  I think I'm relatively pleased with the free flow of the painting and I do feel like it has some great energy.  Proportions?  I'm not sure.  Still, I feel pleased to have captured this little moment in our lives.  It's one for the history books, that's for sure.

Anyway, thanks for stopping by and seeing what I've been up to.

I'll see you around!