I remember it all

studio morning

Weathered
Mixed Media on Canvas
10 x 10 cm (3.94 x 3.94 in)
© 2024 Megan Chapman
Sold

The Storm
Mixed Media on Canvas
6.5 x 12.5 cm (2.56 x 4.92 in)
© 2024 Megan Chapman

Fielding
Mixed Media on Canvas
13.99 x 11 cm (5.51 x 4.33 in)
© 2024 Megan Chapman

Departure
Mixed Media on Canvas
15 x 15.5 cm (5.91 x 6.1 in)
© 2024 Megan Chapman

Aground
Mixed Media on Canvas
8.89 x 12.5 cm
© 2024 Megan Chapman

A coldness
Mixed Media on Canvas
12.7 x 12.7 cm (5.0 x 5.0 in)
© 2024 Megan Chapman

This week was pretty full on and I am weary. Until next week, enjoy the September Series and keep fighting.

X.

Weathered

And then there were five

A friend of mine noticed that last Friday my blog was published before 9:30 in the morning thanks to the excitement of the new Interpol album (incidentally that post was also analytically quite popular thanks to the topic). Here we are this week and it's 3:30 in the afternoon as I finally get started, though I have been thinking about my blog for hours. 

Some of you lovely readers may have also noticed that during the past week (partially fuelled by the Interpol's new music, I'm sure) that I launched a new wee project and have been communicating more on my social media channels than usual in response. 

In other words, it's September and it's all kicking off. 

If you haven't already seen it, let me introduce you to Megan Chapman's Postbox Originals: Accessible art through your letterbox. A curated series of small original paintings on rough edged canvas embracing the worn, beautifully broken, and silent.

This month's series in celebration of my 12 years in Scotland is geared towards my UK collectors old and new and is called, "Weathered" and features six small works. Each original painting on unstretched canvas is £55 and that includes p&p with insurance and tracking. The title piece of the series sold straight away to a lovely repeat collector here in Scotland. 

Think of this series and project as a reintroduction, a thank you, and a statement in alignment with my values and desires for my art and community. I have missed this and you.

If you don't already follow me on the socials give me a follow and you can see how I have been writing about this series each day on Instagram or Facebook. This work is all I am going to focus on this month. You can view and purchase the series here.

Fielding
mixed media on unstretched canvas
13.99 x 11 cm (5.51 x 4.33 in)
© 2024 Megan Chapman

Thanks for stopping by the Friday Studio Blog and for your continued support. 

Let's keep fighting.

a strange gift to care

a coldness, mixed media on canvas, 2024 © Megan Chapman

Interpol released a new album at around 6 am my time and I was there listening in the dark of morning. A 54 year old grown-ass woman, transfixed. 

I was transported to my childhood bedroom - where I was again listening to a new record. First side, any repeats? Play those a few more times, get to know them. Then flip it and find a gem or two and then flip it back and listen again. Find the grooves - the patterns and paths inside the music. Get lost in the story of the lyrics on the sleeve, and then the visuals. Usually, I would favour one side over the other and then after a week or so things would come together and I would have a complete picture of the new album. 

Like a detective looking for clues, it was an embodied experience - intense musical frisson. I am grateful to be so completely entranced by sound. 

I have already found my first repeater of the day on Interpol's new album, This Mirror Weighs a Ton. Wounded Soldier plays over and over on my big head phones. The vocal's edge, the lyrics and rhythm pull me along and keep me hooked.

I have written about Interpol and what their music means to me and my art, and how it has shown up in my life throughout the 19 years of this blog. It's a wonderful and strange gift to care so much about this band. 

On this perfect grey and rainy morning, I put sugar in my tea in celebration.

Fire on the hills of yesterday

Reserving my words.

Until next week, take care. 

Remember

Remember, 15x15cm/5.9x5.9" mixed media on canvas 2025 Megan Chapman
£45 & free UK 2nd class shipping

I am talking to strangers on the street, at the bus stops, in shops, and on the pavements as they clean out their cars. I am talking to them like they are long lost friends and they are letting me. We are laughing, sharing, and relating - we talk about music, politics, and despair. We share favourite bands - an obscure Interpol song radiates out of a car window. We smile, we nod, and we bond. 

A woman takes a photo of something I'm wearing - a shared political belief. The artist on the corner tells me about his paintings and challenges my history. We laugh, we know, we have lived similar lives.

The worker in the tea shop enjoys our banter and gives me my matcha for free. I'm touched, I'm thankful, my day made. 

I find more things I need and some things I don't on the street. A friend helps and supports me with a task and then we eat strawberries in the sun. 

Old things remind me of who I am and new things flesh it out even more. My hair grows longer and a bit wild. Glances shared through windows, laughter of later stories. Daisy bouquets and sunshine. 

I am okay. 

I am okay. 

I am okay. 

The strangers tell me so. 

What is old is new again

Archive in Progress

Thank you to everyone who read last week's post, "I'm not the artist I used to be." It seemed to strike a chord with many of you. It was one of my most viewed posts of the year. In fact, since I returned to writing more long form posts starting the second week of October, the readership has increased dramatically. This has of course been very encouraging. Writing this blog each week since 2007 has always been one of the more important and meaningful elements to my art practice. 

I have been feeling a strange sense of excitement like something good is about to happen, a bit like a kid the night before Christmas. This either means I am about to start painting again after a break, the weather is about to change (snow is forecasted), or it could be because I have been taking a deep dive into an older record by Interpol. Most likely, it's a combination. 

Part of me wants to get up and paint something new right now so I have some art to show you here but that is a ridiculous way to work and one of my old ways of operating. I have loads of pieces to show you, and I have older works that you have forgotten or never saw the first time around.

That brings me back to Interpol's 4th album, Interpol.

As I mentioned in my recent post, Our joy is our power, - "...every time I see Interpol their music returns to me shiny and new to be discovered all over again as if for the first time" and that is what has happened. When their 4th album came out in 2010 I didn't connect with it right away. However, I did go to see them on the tour in support of it. There was a lot going on in my life at that moment and the record didn't quite register with me in a meaningful way. It was a fine album, there were a few songs that I really liked, and then I put it away.

Interpol's fourth album is seemingly conceptual taking the listener through the course of a relationship - perhaps as the band was navigating some issues amongst themselves in real time. It was the last album that Carlos Dengler (their amazing bass player) worked on. It was reportedly hard to record. 

I am not a music critic and I don't get a thrill from dissecting an album song by song, and you aren't here for that anyway. However, I can tell you, that the song, Try it on has been on repeat for a week and I get a thrill from it each time. When it's not in my headphones, it's in my mind playing. It's the rhythm, repetition, and phrasing along with all the layers that pull me in. I find the emphatic, pleading delivery, immense. 

"Please explore my love's endurance
And stay, stay
Please endure my love's exhortations
No way, no fucking way, no"

I have been diving into the old beats, floating through the phrases, identifying with the emotions and feeling so lucky that I receive music in such a way that it can completely transcend the less lovely parts of life. And that something old can be new again and give me more joy than I ever imagined. 

And here lies the lesson. I have paintings that you haven't seen. I also have paintings that you have seen but maybe you weren't in the right place to receive them at the time. I have paintings that fit into your life now that perhaps didn't then. 

Artists get sensitive about this. We want to show you the new thing - where our heads are now. What we think is our best work as we keep evolving our craft and expanding our meanings behind it. There is also judgment around older work - it must still be hanging around because no one wanted it and now it has expired, as if art comes with a "use by" date like food. That's ridiculous.

I am listening to a song on an album from 2010 on repeat and it is delivering a fresh punch of joy each time. 2024 happens to be the year I was able to receive and comprehend this gift. 

When I don't share my older work, I am censoring myself and I am limiting your experience of my work. That's madness and that brings me to my archive. 

I have been working on my archive for years because my website is out of date due to space limitations and because of this, it is sadly static. My goal for the archive was to first showcase the last 10 years of my art - the large bodies as well as the smaller bodies of work. This is a huge undertaking and I have been working on it for ages and it is still not done. I haven't shared it because in my mind it is not perfect or complete. I need to get out of this trap and so I have decided to offer it up to you as it stands now.

I hope you will enjoy just some of the work I have created in the past 10 years in Scotland from my archive. There is still so much more to add to it. Currently, you will see untitled work, work with missing information etc. so if you have any questions about anything you see or don't see here don't hesitate to ask or leave me a comment. Eventually, I will share work from the beginning of my career on the archive too.

I just need to make a start, so here goes. Keep fighting, we need you here, perfectly imperfect.

I present to you the ARCHIVE.

Our joy is our power

Well, shit. 

There is a certain way those two words are said together in my head in an Arkansas accent that conveys a certain feeling. It might be my grandmother's voice I hear it in, or perhaps it's my fathers, or maybe it's my own. 

Well, shit...

I have been eating cookies for breakfast while avoiding the news or reading any articles. I have been checking on friends and family and gratefully focused on union work. I have been going for walks, bereft and questioning but not surprised. 

But, let's go back in time to before the shit hit the fan - I was jet lagged and hopeful and I had one more adventure in the cards before I could rest. On Monday, I caught the train through to Glasgow to see Interpol for the 8th time. 

Paul Banks of Interpol

Daniel Kessler of Interpol

I was really worn out from travelling and a recent migraine but I knew Interpol would give me more energy than getting myself over to see them would ever take. I was right. The train was smooth and easy, the venue was close to the station, and I left early enough to stop by a cafe for a light dinner before chatting to the folks working the door at the venue. I was one of ten or so early birds or super fans. They let us in the venue at 6 to wait for the stage doors to open at 7. Water was purchased, toilets were used, and all the women at the front of the line chatted with each other and laughed. We were instant friends with one shared objective, to be right in front of Paul and Daniel of Interpol. We were from countries all around the world and we spanned generations. Some of these women had just seen each other at the previous gigs in Wolverhampton and Manchester. The woman from Leeds next to me had seen them 31 times. The artist I met waiting at the door made sure I had a great spot next to her at the barricade and we traded Instagram handles and talked about witches and art. We were an instant sisterhood -  with our shared and knowing smiles, talks of ageing, the joys of gigging alone, art, small towns, cats, travel, politics, and of course Interpol. 

I was uplifted by these kindred spirits before the band even took the stage.

The opening band Dust from Australia played a fine noisy set and seemed extremely appreciative of the Glasgow audience which made me wonder how they had been received by Wolverhampton and Manchester. 

Interpol took the stage at 9:15 playing their second album Antics in its entirety, and then a set of 9 songs spanning their catalog, capping off the night with a perfect one song encore by playing PDA from Turn on the Bright Lights. The light show was intense and atmospheric and both Paul and Daniel were in fine form and seemed delighted to be there. Sadly Sam was missing as he continues to recover from spinal surgery and health issues. It was another great Interpol gig.

I hugged my new barricade mate goodbye and was out the door to catch the 11:15 train back to Edinburgh. Once returned to the city and on the bus in the wilds of Leith, another Interpol fan recognised me as they were exiting the bus, "Weren't you just at Interpol and in the front?" Aye, I was. Smiles were shared, take cares uttered and again I was embraced into the fold of humanity. The night ended as it began.

I was energised and happy to be alive. 

As I mentioned the last time I wrote about Interpol here, all you have to do is use the search feature in the top left of this blog to see how I feel about the band and what they mean to me, my life, and work. That's the power of art and music - it is truly life giving and inspiring, momentum building and community forging, identity shaping, alchemic bliss. 

The edge of a guitar note as it rings out, the turn of phrase, the gasp and crack of the voice, the bass as it moves through you and drums as they ground and transcend. There is nothing much better than that. And every time I see Interpol their music returns to me shiny and new to be discovered all over again as if for the first time.

Tears drown in the wake of delight
There's nothing like this built today
You'll never see a finer ship in your life
We sail today...

That was Monday night, then the US Election on Tuesday came and went, and like a needle being dropped on a record, Wednesday was a day of mourning and the rest of the week was a blurred hellscape. And here we are.

And I am still listening to Interpol as I walk briskly through the leaves. I still "understand the assignment" and I still stand by art, music, and community. 

Our joy is our power.

You bloom in spring

There is joy to be found in a good pencil and even more joy to be found in just the right paper. Spring is here. Thank you for being here. Don't give up.

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!

Like what I share?

We sail today

Paul Banks of Interpol 

Hello Dear Readers!!

I got myself into the studio Monday from 10-2:30, Tuesday from 9-11, and again on Friday from 11:30-2:30. I recorded another Tuesday Studio Video Visit from my studio, organised most of my favourite materials, received my new drawing board, organised a survey for the Drill Hall resident artists, attended a meeting with a few artists, and started and finished a painting!

And I saw Interpol on Wednesday Night! Interpol = finished painting. It's a fact. It was my first completed abstract painting since last autumn. I am finding my way. 

It was my 7th time seeing Interpol and maybe the best gig yet! Certainly, the shortest distance I have ever travelled. Amazing. I was high as a kite the next day. Invigorated.

May 31, 2007
Interpol /
Palladium Ballroom, Dallas, Texas, United States

Aug 01, 2007
Interpol / Calla
The Pageant St. Louis, Missouri, United States

Sep 27, 2007
Interpol / Atmosphere / Liars
Palladium Ballroom, Dallas, Texas, United States

Oct 10, 2007
Interpol / Liars
Uptown Theater Kansas City, Missouri, United States

April 20, 2011
Interpol / The School of Seven Bells
Cain's Ballroom, Tulsa, Oklahoma, United States

February 14, 2015
Interpol /
Barrowlands, Glasgow, Scotland

May 31, 2023
Interpol / Water From Your Eyes

O2 Academy, Edinburgh, Scotland

If you want to read about the relationship between me, Interpol, and art then just type "Interpol" in the search bar of this blog in the top left. This is a band that I have painted countless paintings to with their songs on repeat, over and over again. They sort of resuscitated me when I thought I was getting old back in 2007 (lolz - I was only 35) and at 51 they still do the trick. 

Go see live music. Go see your favourite band over and over again. Have a healthy obsession. I am so grateful that I have been seeing live music since I was 13.

Right, so my art. 

The Tuesday Studio Video Visit:  Abundance in the studio. 

I love my tools - these are my friends.

After I filmed the video I couldn't help but start a painting. I needed to make some marks on that wall so it didn't stay too pristine for too long. And the finished result is below. It's all the rage back home... 

I listened to one song on repeat (of course). 

That's this week's studio blog. Thanks for your encouragement, support, and for being along for the ride. Take care until next week.

Like what I share?

Obstacle 2

Return to me 
mixed media on canvas 30x26"
Megan Chapman 2006
private collection

Hello, there studio blog readers, 

Thank you to everyone who read last week's post. I appreciate hearing from you across my social media channels. Always good to get feedback, hear if something resonates, or just to see a friendly hello, a name and a face. 

Today I am up at dawn monitoring the breathing of my cat, feeling how small he has become and how soft and delicate. I turn the light on in the darkness to see how his eyes look and I plot my next course of action. He needs to eat - today is the day I open the forbidden small tin of food - to mix some in with his prescription that he only licks these days. He needs subcutaneous fluids too. And after the sub-Qs, he will get a bit of an equally forbidden lick-e-lix treat. We have played by all the rules for so long, we have done our very best, and now we are tired - we need a few rewards. 

Before warming the fluids and brandishing the needle, I tidy up the kitchen and let him linger by his water bowl unsuspecting. As he sits "turkey style" staring into nothing and everything, I look out the window watching the world wake up. I put things in order, walking quietly for some reason and yet moving with decisive action. It reminds me of the past. 

It reminds me of hearing the calling at 3am and rolling out of bed to float up the stairs to my attic studio to put on my headphones and get lost in music and paint. Dancing upstairs with Alizarin Crimson, Orange Oxide, Gold, and Phalo Blue...  

"I'm gonna pull you in close

I'm gonna wrap you up tight

I'm gonna play with the braids that you came here with tonight..."

(I am back there now - dancing in the attic to Interpol - walking and working in dream time, painting for you and you and you and I am still in my 30s and it seems like all the doors are still open). 

And then the track changes and I am back sitting here at the table. My sick cat is resting, tears are close to my eyes and I am 51 living in Edinburgh, Scotland. I have closed a lot of the doors and I have had more than a few closed on me...

And I am sitting with all this space and I envision doing something out of the ordinary - you know like painting or drawing... How did this happen? 

I'll send myself a post card to remember

Headphones on. One song on repeat."So long, bad feeling..." the voice of Paul Banks hits the spot it has hit repeatedly, this time not with Interpol but with another new project, as a member of MUZZ. I find it auspicious that Paul Banks has been on lockdown in Edinburgh since March 12th. If you have followed this blog long enough, you know why I am even mentioning this or even seriously using the word auspicious. 

Good luck charm. Good Omen. Wake up call. A voice that fit into the receptor site in my brain that was looking for something in my thirties and now here I am in my late forties, and it still works. Like some old memory that isn't mine, the vibrations continue to propel me forward to unlock my secrets clothed in his vagueries. And this is good for THE ART. 

I was unwell this week, dizzy and strange, mostly exhausted from Sunday night through most of this week, however, I am happy that I am seemingly well again. 

I finished a couple of pieces this week, thanks to Paul of course. I smile to myself and I wish you knew my sense of humour better. I'm one of those funny women and I laugh a lot. 

I started sending myself postcards of my art. Pieces I don't want to forget, pieces from this time that are keys to something more. Notes to myself as I am working. Remember this. This is good. Trust this. 

Here are this week's works. 

Solidly in the centre (not moving)
mixed media
A3 size/11.7x16.5”
150gm acid-free smooth cartridge paper
£125

Imaginary traits (you brought me here)
mixed media
A3 size/11.7x16.5”
150gm acid-free smooth cartridge paper
Sold

Thank you. Be well. I appreciate you and all your love and support. Thanks for being awake to all that it is beautiful and divine. It's easy to lose that, and I never want us to lose that.

Temptress of the sea, you treat me right

Andrew Wyeth, "Airborne," 1996, Tempera on panel

What can I say, my mind is not exactly here. I am not that focused on art either (even though I did have four pieces documented, varnished, and I painted the sides of the canvases in order to ship them off tomorrow (more on that soon).

My studio is also still mostly tidy from last Sunday's Open Studio event (thanks to everyone who attended). I also installed another set of shelves in the studio (found on the street of course) for my canvas storage. So, I have been getting some things organised and moving ever forward.

I have been trouble sleeping, waking up at 3am most nights this past week, very excited about moving to our new place. We got the keys to our wee fisherman's cottage on Thursday.

I am not sure how we decided on this place, I think it was imminent homelessness nipping at our heels. We saw it all of ten minutes and it was in a bit of a state, nothing I would usually want to live in but at the same time it had "something" many places did not, a feeling that a potential metamorphosis could take place with a bit of care and vision. We saw it at 10:30 in the morning last Thursday and by 2:30 that day it was reserved for us. It's only 15 minutes away by bus to the part of town I know and love most, and we are technically still in Edinburgh, so I need not worry but trust in the only constant, change.

When we got the keys, I was very excited to walk through it again while the workers were giving it a fresh lick of white paint. I sat on the carpeted floors and looked out the windows. I stood on the concrete of the back patio and rejoiced that I had a place where my feet could touch the earth. I imagined all sorts of scenarios, pots of soup and cups of tea, and a meditation on the wee beach across the road. How will living in this new space and community affect my painting? Only time will tell. Perhaps, we all need to move every four years, to shake off the old ways and start again.

"We sail today 

Tears drown in the wake of delight 

There's nothing like this built today 

You'll never see a finer ship in your life 

Along the way 

The sea will crowd us with lovers at night 

There's nothing like this built today 

You'll never see a finer ship 

Or receive a better tip in your life..." 

-Interpol

I think we have found a fine ship...

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

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