I keep it simple

In case you missed it, you can read last week's post here.

I am not feeling well, the grief eating is catching up with me, processed food, bread, and sugary shite I don't normally eat. I know it makes sense, but it's not really serving me. My body aches, my emotions are raw.

I met up with more lovely friends for more cake though. Soon, I will make some changes but not quite yet. 

However, this is the week I start drawing again. Out of necessity - a way to communicate what I can't speak or think about. I keep it simple. 

You can read next week's post here.

I kept all your letters

Sometimes I wonder if I should have a separate place to write things that aren't about art. I wonder if that would make it easier to always write "on time." But then if I was writing somewhere else there would be no exact time to do it and there would be nothing here on "Friday."

So here I am, not exactly wanting to write about art. There are two things I sort of want to write about. The first is that I picked through someone's flat moving remnants outside their building. They were kind enough to take a photo and share it online - a community offering before it would be taken to a charity shop. I picked up 2 bags of castoffs. I took photos of my haul and shared it with friends and family. I tallied up its retail value. I commented that it was obviously the possessions of a much younger woman but with the taste of my inner child. I even took a stack of her hot pink and yellow coloured paperbacks - 8 of them in the pile. And this is maybe where it ventures into art. The concept around methodically reading another person's books, void of choice - like a street assigned reading list.

I get a bit excited by limitations.

I get overwhelmed by all the choices at the grocery store or in shops. But, I love the treasures left on the street or in the racks of the charity shop. I love the fated aspect of it. I usually find exactly what I need and when I need it. I needed a boost and I got a second Christmas from her leaving offerings, complete with mustard yellow low top Converse All Stars exactly in my size. She wrote on the toes of both shoes, "life's too short to waste" in black pen. 

I noticed the faded mantra the next day. 

I feel like I have wasted my fair share of life but I also feel we are probably meant to or maybe there is no way to actually waste it. I hope that's the case. However it all works out, I was glad to receive her message.

So I am reading her books and living with her things and wishing her well on her move. 

The second thing I sort of wanted to write about was some local genealogy research I have been doing but I can't write about it poetically. Genealogy is mostly frustrating, with flashes of magic here and there - stories and family ghosts pulling me along into a puzzle of history and dumb luck. An hour becomes a whole day and I can't look away. It all points back to the tip of my new shoes. Am I wasting my life? Surely not.

I like to think the ancient family knows I am looking for them and that they are glad I am here. They are as curious about me as I am of them. 

They whisper, there is art in all of this.

Process the old news

 

There's so much I could say, but I'll let you finish.

200 breadcrumbs to get to this place

A stack of my latest paintings on paper

March. It's been one hell of a month. I am feeling pretty worn out and grateful to have arrived at the weekend. I haven't been using words on the studio blog lately as I am using them elsewhere. 

This David Lynch meme found on the internet is relatable.
Just substitute painting for the word film. 

The sun brightens the room after a series of darker and stormy days. The light is lovely, though my phone tells me more rain is coming in a couple of hours. I am content to sit in the sun (however temporary) and listen to music as I type. 

I have painted over 200 pieces since the 29th of January. Of course, many are just process works - breadcrumbs on the path to somewhere else. Right now, it's all about returning to the energy and the regularity of the practice. This flurry of activity has been about getting reacquainted with why I paint and draw at all. It's about why I have painted and drawn my entire life. 

It's always a re-learning at first, or it feels that way. The return. What lines, what colours, what movements, what compositions, what materials, what moves me? What moves my hand, eye, brain, and heart? What lines are mine, and which lines are borrowed? Do I lean on a trick, a technique, a motif? And why do I lean on it? What does it say about me and how I want to feel? Is it a trick? All the questions swirl and dance while I work. The music is perfect. The music isn't right. Go back again and repeat the song that works - the song and the line meld and get stronger. Taking me away. 

Just this past week, the work is starting to trust me again. It's holding me for longer and is starting to talk and tell me where to go. I have had to paint these 200 breadcrumbs to get to this place. Painting is a relationship one must tend. 

Thank you for being here and for all the positive feedback I have received about these latest pieces of work. I appreciate it. I can't and don't want to create in a vacuum. The process and ritual are for me, but the work needs you too. 

Consider leaving me a wee tip for the paintings (48 over on Facebook) I have shared for free this month. Thank you for supporting my work. 

Special thanks to my monthly supporters: Jennifer Libby Fay, Tamsin Haggis, Jennifer Douglas Arbuckle, and the late Pat Bremner. 

Another one comes forth (removable face)

Another one comes forth (removable face)

People are very curious… lots of questions. "What does this mean, what do these portraits mean?" I don’t know for sure, but concerning the most recent crown portraits, perhaps it goes something like this... I’m originally from a democracy now living as a subject, under a new king with new prime ministers currently changing on a dime - with systems of power shifting- and I am in a country that wants to be independent. Also thrown in the mix are capitalism, wealth inequality, cost of living crisis, identity, daily life and worries reflected in news headlines. Just a hunch, but I think all of this factors into the work. 

The world is a mess and people need to make sense of it - I know I need to. Bright colours and faces seem to help. These portraits haven't just sprung up overnight (as social media algorithms may have you thinking). I have been working on these pieces since 2017. Recently, for the first time in over 20 years, I didn’t paint for a calendar year, and then when I started back, the faces jumped to the front of the queue and they are all I have painted so far in 2022 except for one abstract piece.

They are all self-portraits of sorts - fragments of self, various characters, feelings, and my thoughts captured in an impulsive charcoal line. These portraits are a more direct way to express the past 8 years of my life in the U.K.

Eventually, as I get to know the work better, I will know what’s truly going on. I need the work to be more easily felt or understood right now. The faces are fun for me to create and more obviously expressive and easier to swallow for some people. I can be free with them and show all elements of myself. Another factor in all of this is that I've been frustrated that at times it seems people here don’t always understand or appreciate abstract art (the work I have dedicated my adult life to). So here we are, portraits seem to fit the bill. I just have to show up and make what comes forth - and right now there are a lot of voices knocking at the door. 

It’s a personal expressive rebellion and one I am enjoying. I think that shows in the work. I’m an abstract painter who happens to be going through a portrait phase and maybe that's all there is to it.

Thanks to fellow artist and dear friend Steven Heaton for prompting this blog post with an impromptu interview of sorts. Follow him on Instagram: @steven_heaton

Until next week, keep fighting! If you missed my Tuesday Studio Video Visit: Find it here. 

Like my studio blog? Support it. Tip me on ko-fi. Thank you. Folks that tip me £3 get a curated YouTube playlist of my favourite studio music each month as a wee thank you. 

Wild and complicated

This week in the studio was a challenge, however, I did stick to my schedule and in fact, I put in just a little extra time in the studio on Wednesday as well. So I have managed to go to my studio at least twice a week for the past three. I am just trying to get back into the habits of showing up, being in the space, and sharing the space with my studio mate who has been there since May. I wasn't expecting any hard or serious work but then a flood of portraits came forward. I got excited, and suddenly I was expecting things of myself, my work and my time in the studio. That is a pressure that I just don't need and especially when I am trying to build habits with compassion for myself and the process. I don't want to be a machine anymore or approach this time with harsh rules, but unfortunately, it is so easy to let that part of my brain take over.

Anyway- this is a long way of saying - there were really no "good" portraits this week - maybe one or two - but definitely not six. You can see and hear my frustration during the Tuesday Studio Video Visit this week.

 

One from this week that might work

A lovely patron gifted me with a collection of canvases this week, and so with feeling the frustration of the faces not materialising, I decided to get out one of the largest canvases, a linen 80x100cm and have a go at painting a good old abstract painting.

A fevered energy took over and I bashed out a muted abstract in greys, blacks, and ochres. I messaged a dear painter friend, "is this a painting?" I decided it was (for now) and it certainly captured the atmosphere of the day.

Soon after I stopped painting, I heard the Queen was gravely ill. I packed up my stuff as I strangely felt the urge to get myself home.

I listened to the news during the rainy bus ride and turned on the BBC once through the door. I respectfully sat up on the sofa when they confirmed the news of her death. What a long and full life.

In my UK citizenship ceremony two years ago this month, I made an affirmation - a solemn, and sincere oath to be faithful and allegiant to her Majesty, her Heirs and Successors. Every immigrant who becomes a citizen in this country has gone through this ritual. And all of those naturally born in this country are born subjects. 

Life is filled with such wild and complicated moments.

A vintage postcard I was given while on my citizenship path.
Stapled to the back of the studio closet door.

The dark psychic void

I am sitting across the room looking at a painting I started. It's a bit too literal for my liking just now. I am in danger of overworking yet another piece but that is okay. Today I triumphed anyway. I painted. Yesterday I taped the paper to the wall and that was my other triumph of the week. Just take the step. Put the paper in place. Get the palette together. Make a mark. Repeat. Take a risk. Repeat. Listen to the music, let it take you to that place. The dark psychic void. Listen carefully to the paint, the mark, the paper. Don't force it. Leave this world and wade into the deep, they are waiting for you.

Each time you do this, there is a reward and a remembrance.

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.

I am not a woman of leisure

The Velvet Easel Gallery

Portobello, Edinburgh

Scotland

You can catch my work in the Of Night and Light Exhibition until the 1st of March 2020.

Dancing Light Gallery

Edinburgh

Scotland

You can catch my work in the Winter Warmth Exhibition until the 29th of January 2020.

Fenix Gallery

Fayetteville, Arkansas, USA

Ask to see my available small works and limited edition prints

Small works shop: 

https://meganchapmanart.wixsite.com/shop

On all your favourite channels!

Web: www.meganchapman.com

IG: instagram.com/ethermaven

FB: facebook.com/megan.chapman.artist

Twitter: twitter.com/ethermaven

And of course, at my studio G23, located at 36 Dalmeny Street Leith, Edinburgh EH6 8RG, I will gladly open by appointment. 

Walls too crowded, budget tight? You can still support my work. Click the link to buy me a coffee. Consider becoming a one-off or monthly supporter for exclusive content. Thanks! Support Me on Ko-fi 

Active exploration

This week I decided that I have found myself in a residency of sorts in my own studio. My studio G23 has currently become an incubator. I spend my time in my windowless room, pacing the floor, reading snippets out of art books and watching video clips and interviews from other artists.



I rummage through my supplies and order a few depleted items. I scrawl across brown paper sacks with charcoal and oil pastel, I collage mixed papers onto small canvases, I layer paint onto larger ones.

I draw across dictionary pages, more papers, and another accidental portrait emerges.

I am firmly in between series and returning to my art practice. I am showing up and putting in the time, my hand is in active exploration as it crashes through the different mediums. My experiments are peppered with research and the gentle quelling of the questioning voices in my head.

Right on.

**************

Do you enjoy my blog, my video visits, the paintings I share, or the other content that I provide for free across social media? Consider buying me a cup of coffee in support of my work. I am a member of Ko-fi.com, A friendly way for creators to get paid! Thank you!