Anchor to my days

Book two

I have now been engaged in my personal project in my studio daily for the last 5 weeks. As previously mentioned, this entails a string of rituals stacked on top of each other and practised each morning starting around 6am. This usually lasts several hours, and before anything else happens in my day. Everything in its right place - a certain order - a priority. This time is fused together by movement, music, writing and painting, study and meditation. Born from necessity, the essentials revisited. It is a meaningful anchor to my days and I will continue like this until it inevitably runs its course.

And she was

I had a lovely week 

I saw so many beautiful things 

I enjoyed good and cool people 

I learned new ways 

I made art 

I wrote 

I sang 

I danced 

I walked 

I cooked 

I practiced 

I read 

I laughed 

I studied 

I was in awe 

I was moved 

I was sad 

I was anxious 

I worked 

I trusted 

I was disappointed 

I was angry 

I accepted help 

I helped others 

I was vulnerable 

I was ridiculous 

I made people laugh 

I was perfectly imperfect 

I was alive 

Built on a foundation of ok

X

She can see it returning

Currently I get up at 6 am, put a few things order, and then get to work in my studio. I have been working religiously on a personal project for the past 3 weeks. Combining writing, drawing, painting, and collage as well as eastern philosphy and tarot. Brian Eno provides the soundtrack. It's a complete ritual and I am leaning into with everything I've got. 

This type of working is more inline with how I worked in the early 2000s before I had studios outside of my home and I am loving it. 

Things are starting to shift. 

This time in my studio feels a bit like the Tao. I don't want to write or speak too much about it, because words fall short and aren't it. But I see it. I feel it - I even dream it.

This is how it works. 

Hello beautiful green life. 

Hello joyful glowing heart.

You've come in singing

Well Hello, Dear Readers!

Interpol continues to work their magic in the studio (along with of course all I have ever learned and practised for years and years and fucking years... but this is how it happens. I have to commit to showing up and then the bottle stopper comes out and whooooooooooooooooooosh! 

Pouring out... don't stop. Keep showing up. Don't question. Make it bad. Make it old. Make it from the past. Make it limited, make it messy. comfort shapes and lines. Just get it out on the canvas. Don't question. Pour pour pour and don't stop - you can always refine later. You can question if it is "crapstraction" later. Derivative? Who cares, that's for later. These are like napkin doodles after smoking too many cigarettes and drinking too much coffee in 1987. Pour pour pour - don't stop. And then leave. Don't look back. You can look again tomorrow - you can make the connections tomorrow. You can think about it as you walk home under the trees with the birds, with your big headphones. You can repeat the song and hear the chop chop chop chop of the guitar... and you can make your mark. Do not question it at this stage. Plenty of time for this. Later. For now, you just show up and pour. 

And that's all I have for you this week on the Friday Studio Blog. Thanks so much to all of you who have read and followed this blog since 2007 and to those that have just found it somewhere along the way. I learned this week that the Friday Studio Blog is in the top 10 of the top 20 Best Abstract Art Blogs to follow in 2023! I am honoured to be coming in at number 6! 

Check out the list here: https://blog.feedspot.com/abstract_art_blogs

Oh and if you missed the Tuesday Studio Video Visit it's here: Please subscribe to my YouTube channel if you haven't already - thanks!

Thanks for your encouragement, support, and for being along for the ride. Take care until next week and get outside!

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After the way

On an 8-mile local walk this week

There was the blog that I wanted to post today and the blog you are getting. 

I started the first option yesterday, writing about the 10 days on the John Muir Way with my niece Elena, but found it quite overwhelming as I just couldn't focus in the way I wanted. But I have started and will finish it eventually. I decided to just post something for this week and take some of the self-imposed pressure off. I can't believe it has already been a whole week since we got off The Way and took a train back to Edinburgh from Dunbar. 

This week was a return to some sort of normalcy. I hadn't been on a holiday in so long that I forgot about the odd phase right after. So, I tidied up the house, unpacked, did laundry, and watered the plants. I checked in with friends and some family. I caught up on some sleep (I didn't sleep that great while on The Way) and took a few naps. I returned to some work and mentored an artist and took care of business emails, I recorded my Tuesday Studio Video Visit and attended scheduled appointments. I applied for and received my Scot Rail "Club 50" Smart Rail Card (for reduced-priced train travel). I visited a few friends, took myself out for a chai latte, and I made sure to walk daily, anywhere from 2 to 10 miles. I threw in a couple of sessions of aerobics and some yoga for good measure. I realised that it is these more or less daily exercise habits that enabled me to "just go" on the 135-mile (official) John Muir Way (it was 170 miles in total with extraneous walking) over 10 days, spontaneously without too much issue or injury. 

I must admit that right now everything seems a bit dull. I miss my effervescent niece and I miss the task of simply putting one foot in front of the other with a pack on your back and winding up in a farmer's field, a scenic glen, or in a grove of trees by the sea and sleeping somewhere new as you go. The nomadic life (of sorts) appeals to me. Constantly moving forward, exploring, with only a few responsibilities, and all under your own steam seems like a good way to spend time on the planet at least periodically. There are so many lessons and learnings on the way.

Getting out on a few longer walks this week (I even stepped out on a bit of the local John Muir Way again) seemed like a good way to transition and to remember how much local beauty there is that I get to explore each day. I feel very fortunate.

I know this is an art blog - but I also know that walking factors into my art. It certainly factors into my enjoyment of life and allows me the space to listen to my head and heart and to get clear about things. 

I think that is all I have for you this week, a return to normalcy - a simple post about a simple joy. 

Until next week, take good care.

The practice of being human

 Today is the start of the New Year. 2021

Last night:

Six bonfires on the wee beach, laughter and chatter in the distance, the moon and stars above, waves lapping in the background. Counting down minutes, watching the local fireworks displays all around and hearing the ships’ horns bellow at midnight.

I walked 116.30 miles in December. I have not been painting much since I completed my most recent small works on paper. But I have been walking. I think walking is becoming a part of my practice now. The practice of being human, the practice of meditation, practice of being an artist, practice for being in this world and walking through all the events of these strange days.

The pavement is my guide, the birds and trees are my friends. One step forward and then another. The sun holds my hand. I breathe into nature’s embrace. Ever thankful.

There is time for everything and for new ways of being and seeing. Soon I will paint again. Happy New Year, May you be safe, happy, and healthy. 

Thanks for stopping by. 

The Now and the Memories

One. I'll be pink and you will be too. We will spread out over oceans. We will spread across time. We will isolate together, alone. At first, our boundaries will be defined. People all around us, keeping us warm like insulation. You stay in your group and I will stay in mine. Be safe.

Two. People are rushing all around, there has been a breach. There are other pinks but not exactly like me, and certainly not like you. There is a mad crush, they want to rub shoulders, they want to talk loud, spit flies in the air. I am caught against them, held captive but the walls soothe you. 

Three. We are lost in the sea of bodies, my light is dimming. Less pink all the time. I can't see. 

The memories: Fresh like spring and we are gone. 

Five new works on paper created in August 2020. These works were inspired by life, real and imagined, and the words, 'the loss of physical touch is distancing my soul' written by my friend Rosa Macpherson. 

These are the first finished abstract works I have created since May 19th. 

These mixed media pieces are on 200gsm heavyweight acid-free A3 sized cartridge paper and are available for purchase in my Ko-fi shop.

The magic is in the schedule and in the practice

Small works framed for The Velvet Easel Gallery exhibition: "Off the Wall"
Happily, the two on the right sold on opening day. 

Dear Readers, 

I don't seem to have much to say about painting right now and I find that very frustrating. My studio blog is an important part of my process. It is a practice that I value right along with my painting. They work in concert together. My painting spurs on my writing, and my thoughts, words, and daily life spur on my painting. They each help me understand my motivations and why I paint. Sometimes, it's a simple reportage post of what happened one week in the studio, sometimes it's a love letter to the process, and sometimes it's just photographs of the work. The point is, whatever my blog is, I show up each Friday (well, usually). 

The magic is in the schedule and in the practice. This important practice has been hard for me lately. So here's to checking in, acknowledging the importance of the process, and stating my intention to get back into it. That's really all I can do. It doesn't help that I have had three viruses in the past 6 weeks. Perhaps this is a sign to slow down and nurture myself, to breathe in and breathe out and just be. There is an ebb and flow to nature and right now I am in the ebb. Looking forward to sharing the flow again with you one day soon. 

Thanks to all of you that check in here, your support and interest are also part of the process and part of my community that I hold dear. I plan to "catch up" later this weekend.

To quote Thich Nhat Hanh, "Darling, I care about the suffering."