Weekly photo challenge … adventure
This might not look like an adventure; but believe me it is. I have always enjoyed art but I gave it up seriously when I was not prepared to explore the life of an artist and took up a more comfortable career.
So when I decided to returned to up my childhood dream, it did seem like an adventure. Buying paper and paints was like eating forbidden fruit. When I started printmaking a step away from drawing and painting it was even more exciting.
While I was in Brazil I was given the opportunity to try wood cutting. Although it is much like lino cutting and wood engraving there are some differences that proved to be a challenge.
Print makers in Brazil make use of reclaimed wood; such a school desks made of Canela Wood (cinnamon)
I was given a little pile of materials one is canela but the others are unknown. My next step is to learn a little more about them and prepare them for engraving.
The tools the engravers use in Brazil are fairly traditional but some are made of recycled materials like umbrella spokes. Also, the paper and ink are affected by the climate in Brazil so care has to taken when using them. While I don’t have these problems here in UK; I do have a lot to learn and it does have a feel of an adventure into unknown territory.
Last week I …
Last week I helped out at a local Art Show. I recently joined the Reading Guild of Artists and am keen to become a part of the local artists who meet at the University, where I work.
This seemed like a good way to begin and it was. I was invited to the opening night, where I could wander around the exhibits and meet other members with a glass of wine.
Then at the weekend I did a stint at ‘front of house’ welcoming visitors and directing them to the works.
I am not yet an exhibiting member but I hope that soon I will have a portfolio and opportunity to show my work in a year or so.
Silent Sunday
Saturday … Fish?
Well! it has been a good week; I have much to be grateful for. My ‘day off was a joy’ especially as I found time to have my nails painted. Monday evening, I began [an] oil painting. The previous lesson I spent by the Thames making preliminary sketches that could be used for future works.
I began to think about fish and how they might appear on paper, as they were undoubtedly, unseen lurking in the shadows. I went on to consider how one paints a fish in ‘life.’ Unless, I put a few dead ones on a plate? The thoughts ended.
But the week progressed; almost forgetting I had a haircut. Funny, how the regular hairdressing has continued as the hair has now become almost nonexistent and even more strange the pleasant effect after also remains unchanged.
On Wednesday I attended the opening night of the Reading Guild of Artists’ September Show, which was a wonderful event (to be discussed later) It was another first for me in many ways but mainly without or very little hair, my nicely coiffeured tuft had, sadly already gone. It was not easy, especially as my beautifully manicured nails were a little worse for wear after my oil painting lesson.
Nonetheless it was a good week … some imagined fish while the masterpiece in oil remains in progress!
Friday’s Snapshot from the library …
These snapshots really are glimpses of my work in Special Collections; little joys in the my day. First a jacket separated from it’s book reading to be repaired and reunited. Then a pamphlet one of many I am classifying in the Mark Longman Library. The content is fairly ordinary but the design on the cover, of the Roman ‘ten’ by Lynton Lamb is a delight.
Alphabe Thursday P is for Peter Piper
Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pepper:
A peck of pickled pepper Peter Piper picked;
If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pepper;
Where’s the peck of pickled pepper pick?
I come from Hampshire where the accent is slurred and lazy; we would drop ‘H’ and do not sound our consonants. Our teachers and my mother were strict about pronunciation and would make us recite this tongue twister when we dropped into lazy language.
Pupils in drama school too would use the poem as an exercise in articulation and rather cruelly the teacher would insist they added ‘off a pewter plate’ at the end of each line . You could be sure they were speaking the Queen’s English after that!
The practice is not new. In the Literary Leisure, or the recreations of Solomon Saunter (1802), the satirist Hewson Clarke (b. 1787) said that ‘Peter Piper was a particular favourite with me’ , should be rehearsed ‘three times without drawing a breath’ which ‘renders it an useful lesson in the art of elocution’.
I have heard that in Our village Mary Russell Mitford (1787 – 1855) remembers how her French mistress insisted that they translated Peter Piper into Gallic’ Now that is cruel!
Wednesday’s woman Engraver
According to Patricia Jaffe in Woman Engravers, one female name to come to the fore early in the 19th century in the history of wood engraving was Eliza Thompson. She was not a pupil of the Female School of Design but the daughter of the famous John Thompson (1785–1866). Who was an an artist and wood engraver and noted for his illustrations in William Yarrell’s History of British Birds. John Thompson taught his sons and daughter and she undoubtedly helped her father on commissions. Some of the illustrations in the Yarrell’s book are inscribed with ‘T. DEL.ET.SC. this suggests that all the family members were involved with the work. In the preface Yarrell only thanks John Thompson and his sons; Eliza seems to have gone off the radar.
Apparently several of the pretty vignettes have the monogram that appears to be that of John Thompson but they could easily been her works and they are indeed quite a different style to the birds.
But Patricia Jaffe only speculates … but I like the idea!
Further reading Woman Engravers by Patricia Jaffe.
Weekly photo challenge … Dialogue
Oh dear ; not so easy this week. Plenty of people about me in deep dialogue; some lively debate that would make an interesting image. But me muscling in with my camera would not be over polite, if indeed legal. So best,I consider the conversations I have with myself ; these are just as difficult to portray, near impossible, but for the sake of Postaday I will try.
I talk to myself throughout the day.
Before I rise from my bed I ask ‘What day is it?’ ‘Week day or not?
Its raining.
‘Did it start before seven? Will it clear by eleven?’
‘What’s the plan?’
Just as well I am not a brain surgeon or a space rocket engineer ; nothing would get done before noon.
However, the discussions go on ; having decided I will go to work ; we/I mull over the location, the tasks involved and the style of dress required.
The pros and cons of breakfast; cereal and or toast, tea or coffee, the debates go on.
And still no image until further, more animated deliberation … which bag?
Soon, I will …
Have a day of; not just an odd day but a regular 4 day week. This adjustment to my work life pattern has taken much thought on my part and deliberation on the part of my employers. This opportunity to ask for flexible working pattern has to be considered very carefully.
I have worked all my life not always to further my career but to put food on the table. However, this has changed in the last 15 years or so. My salary is still vital to the household economy but I am in a better position to enjoy my work and get personal satisfaction. So to give up a reasonable income and a lovely job has not been an easy decision. So when I reached retirement age I decided not to rush to take up embroidery and crochet. So 4 years later I ask myself again ‘Do I or don’t I?’
While I am still not eager to give up completely I would like a day off and my employers agree ; but apparently the procedures are not as easy as we thought . So the cogs of organisation chugged on.
I am lucky to be in a position to take annual leave at regular intervals while the negotiations go on.
So today I have a day off and play at working a 4 day week. What joy!
I am going to find it difficult to adjust; for 50 years I have worked a 5 day week, more in the early days.
I will not be baking cakes or crocheting bed jackets … while these are admirable tasks I will for a while gaze on these sycamore seeds … beautiful …. I had never noticed.
Silent Sunday
Coat Hanger Doll's House 