I draw quite a lot and sometimes, if I'm drawing a person, I like to take a photo of myself and look at the general shape of certain gestures or emotions. I've been doing this for ages it would seem . . . because there are loads of photos on my computer of me doing the strangest things. Would you like a look? Yes? Well here are some edited highlights. I like them as images, I think they'd be nice viewed out of context. I also like how unselfconscious they are - the me of the past didn't think little old future me would share them with the whole of the internet. But I did. Maybe I'll regret it tomorrow.
The fish I made last year have been selling really well on my stall so I'm making some more. Also, there are more prints and things in the pipeline, so that is nice. Busy.
I love them little fishy babies: all the mis-biffs and testers are floating around the house, they make nice conversation starters and facilitate silliness real good. At New Year they were getting chucked around and cuddled and kissed . . . a few of them even got treated to sips of beer.
There are still fish in the Etsy shop if you would like one, and I'm hoping this post will put a fire under my bum to get more things posted up there soon!
|Black spots on noses . . .|
|Other fishiness creeping in all over my life: a little wooden mascot on my desk.|
|A nice picture of stargazy pie - this year I will cook one of these.|
This is a book from my parents house. Bog people are ancient bodies that have been preserved by the unique conditions of bogs.I have vivid memories of this book from when I was younger, there is a quality to the prints that's a little haunting, silvery and slippery looking, and the pages have a distintive smell that I imagined to be emanating from the bodies themselves. In fact I have a bit of a gut reaction to it, it gives me a certain sicky feeling to this day. I was looking at it again and remembering when Jack and I were in Denmark: we went to see Grauballemanden. It was nuts exciting! We cycled with our faces braced against cold rain, through Aarhus. I was feeling a bit naff about everything and we left all our possessions on our bikes at the back of the museum - which made me feel a bit scared. But once inside it was magic. A lot of the museum was quite old fashioned with slightly unconvincing dioramas and models: I love that kind of an exhibition. But around Grauballemanden it was much more atmospheric, with low lighting and a choreographed hum over hidden speakers. It gave me butterflies a little. We got to examine the body up close and look down on it from above as if we'd found it. It was really quite magic, we sat for a bit in the presence of this ancient being - thinking about the life Grauballe led, the worries and the nice times. It took me outside myself, made all the things I occupy myself with seem unimportant in the nicest way. I think this is a good feeling to remember on a snowy day in January - to forget pressure and take the long view about what really matters.
I've joined a print room - East London Printmakers to be precise. It's so good to be in a room with all the things, and with a key to the room so I can go in any time. I love print rooms and this one is particularly well organised.
I joined the print room in exchange for them taking on the Arab (it's still mine, just more people can use it now) it's so nice to see the big grubby machine I'm used to using in a cluttered shed all settled in a big airy studio. A little more on the Arab here and here.
It's slightly odd to be printing with other people - I feel quite aware that I'm just winging it mostly, and that sometimes my experiments turn into a mess of black ink, and that I only ever really use black ink, and that I can't use black ink without getting my hands completely black. Also, my printing is very simple when it's down on the page but in my head it is big and complicated and important - when you print alone you never have to really bother seeing what you do through other people's eyes but being in a print room is a different kettle of fish altogether. It's all change round these parts at the moment.
|Spare hands and a some ear eradicators.|
|Stacks and stacks of plan chests - my draw at bottom left.|
|Hello my lovely Arab.|
|Printing up some trousers.|
|Number 1 - The Brussel Stalk.|
|Number 2 - All Iggly Piggly.|
|Number 3 - Scattered Then Straightened.|
|Number 4 - Friends All At Angles.|
|Number 5 - Scallopy All Snuggly.|
|Number 6 - The Uniform Scallop.|
Toot time's come around again real quick - off to Spitalfields tomorrow, I missed it last week.
Hope you're all having a nice time as we sail past the mid point of the working week. Ta-ta. x
|A silly buy to start with: red bobbles on wire, nom-nom-nom.|
|A sixties handbag in softest butteriest leather and with a beautiful lining.|
|A little hand-painted plate with just a touch of lustre in the purple.|
|A fifties blanket with nice contrast yellow stitching around the edge . . . and a pattern that looks a bit like vaginas.|
|A lot of lovely floral fabric.|
|A harrowing one armed monkey. It's forever stuck in the moment of realisation 'my arm is gone'.|
|This little person don't give two hoots about having no nose though. And since I took this photo I found a nice red one and stuck it on.|
|This book is really battered but I like it a lot and I think it might be illustrated by this Peter Green.|
|And these little letters are cut from bone. Gorgeous! Look at the font!|
|A very nice, very big basket. And did you notice: the Schweiker has wandered back in to my life, all casual-like, after months galavanting on the continent. And Marina is staying for a bit too so we are three in our cosy flat which is nice, it feels busy in a good way.|
|A handsome saddle.|
|A Victorian glass - I love how much glass there is at the bottom, the space for drink is so small|
|And a silly buy to end, a twisty wiry, flowery holdery thing.|