I had noticed a few social media posts related to a creative full moon. Sounds good. I thought I could do with some of that. I have been adroit at avoiding my studio, the canvas, materials of all shapes and sizes and the agony of sitting alone with my brain in the vulnerable state of mush that grief imposes. This grief has triggered all kinds of old miseries that I pushed away without complete resolution. Until grief’s distress hit me I was busy, funtioning and productive. But not healed. So this time I am trying a new approach; putting two strong creative techniques together to create a third potent practice. Intuitive painting plus Light-Writing together with an intention to spawn change, to shape-shift: transformation, transmogrification.

​A rebirth is what I seek.

Not merely a change but an evolution. The crack between the two processes is where something happens, the smudge to evolve. Meditation has become an essential ingredient in the alchemy. A silence without incantation; wordless spells. I sit and try not to think.

My Dearest Darling makes the breakfast at the weekend. An Irish spread with scrambled eggs (he’s got this down to a fine art, he’s a perfectionist). Toast with bitter marmalade and coffee. He’s a coffee connoisseur. Fragrant freshly ground beans in a rich liquified extract (did I mention he’s a perfectionist?).

This weekend was that creative new moon in some sign or another. My desire for an original and inspired time was in the stars. I was hungry to find a productive outlet; to paint and write and find some peace beyond. Adventurously, the breakfast was Heston Blumenthal-ed. Somehow (I declined to ask for details), the coffee and the eggs entwined. He took an executive decision to continue to cook those eggs. It was Sunday. There were no more eggs in the house. They evolved into something between frog spawn and cat sick, but funny. Inedible but hilarious. Inventive and bravely inspired. Gross, but somehow just what I needed. It was refreshing and endearing to see my man’s human flaws.
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Social media is usually a polished façade. It hides all the mess and confusion, the frayed edges and the ugly beginnings. I love posting images but social media is tireless. It devours hours of works in an instant, the gaping mouth calling for more posts, unsatisfied, insatiable. I am tired of the black hole, the void, into which my work falls. Once posted my painting feels used. With its image on the web it takes on a cloak of ‘done, been there, what’s next?’.

Once the gloom of an artist’s block envelopes you, perfectionism is the monster in the dark. The effort and the learning are disregarded. We all need to produce messy images. We need permission to engage with chaos and disorder. My brain is in turmoil. I need to honour my dis-ease. Judgement is anathema to creativity.

I need to produce messy images.

​I’m giving myself permission to engage with chaos and disorder and to find the joy within. 

I am so excited to continue my blog posts. It has been a while since I had time to sit and think or to tell my story here. I can’t contain myself now. I want to tell everyone about my exhibition of small paintings in Chocoa, a glamorous boutique coffee and chocolate Bistro in Ballymena. And my Cat painting was requested too!

​It is time I told a little of the Cat’s evolution. It has taken a decade to find this final cat shape.
The painting began life as part of my thinking process when I was embroiled in an academic venture exploring the alternative language art materials offer to access and to express complex feelings and emotions. The process of painting this was a bit like thinking out loud. It also slowed my thinking and made my confusion and puzzlement visible. I felt vulnerable and insignificant, like a very little fish in a vast unknown ocean.

​The fact that I had committed myself to the huge task hit me as I looked at the shapes and felt the terror of falling. I drew figures jumping from an aeroplane, a child engrossed in a book, feet taking slow steps forward (a tortoise found a form beneath the toes) and a face emerging from a labyrinth. Over time, as my work led me into strange new territory my interaction with the painting helped me to organise and to clarify my feelings and ideas, even to get inside my own head.  

​When the academic journey was complete the painting continued to change. Through it I was able to express my experience of the new directions my life was taking. At one point the red tree trunk became a crocodile. The little boy sitting on the platform became the reflection in his eye. During this time I painted lots of images of the crocodile-riding goddess Akhilanda.  She is the never-not-broken one. She taught me much about the value of our scars and how although we may feel broken we are always whole. My lessons absorbed I was able to paint over the intense colour and texture and to free myself from the anxieties and expectations of academia. I began to play lightly with shapes and patterns. Ducks and flowers and climbing figures covered the canvas.

​The painting sat quietly in my studio for a while as I found myself painting more and more again. One day I added a blue layer. It was a foundation for something but I waited until the image offered itself to me. I had begun to paint small animal portraits and a cat appeared that was simple yet dramatic. Here was the character to pull the whole canvas together. It still wasn’t quite ready to stop me though, until the koi carp appeared amongst the marigolds. The fish provided a visual tension. Like a pool you could now look at multiple layers; glimpses of the bottom, things swimming at various depths and reflections and refractions on the surface. I called it complete.

​Go and say hello in Chocoa. The hot chocolate is unbelievable wonderful. I can’t wait to try breakfast!

During the painting of 'Tortoise Man' a parrot popped up from a little pool of potent mud. He has led me on an exploration of parrots. When I get this far I can't resist finding out what the animal I have discovered/uncovered through layers of paint might really look like. I love this adventure stage although my inner critic screams constantly for photorealistic perfection. I am beginning to appreciate the critic and to allow the inner voice to to help rather than sabotage my efforts. It leads to lots of learning!

Joyful Painting with me at Midtown Makers Ballymena throughout October 2017

Thank you Patricia Perry for the wonderful photos and to all the Makers, the board of the Business Centre and the wonderful staff of Midtown Makers. The last picture shows how I feel! Yay! We did it!

So Rosie required a makeover. This little goat had been sitting in the shop for a while. She is unframed and nobody was taking any notice of her sweet naughty face. She came home to play. It took me a while to source the sunflowers I desired. When I tracked the flowers down I was hesitant because they were expensive. Tucked in a corner I found the reduced flowers. And sunflowers. Perfect. She does look as if she might be smoking the petals...anyhow I have some lovely sunflowers to enjoy.

All excited. It's always good to have the shop buzzing with people. Come and join us!

#midtownmakers; #ballymenaartist; #cerisart;