Thursday, March 31

New Work.

I seem to need a starter in my art.
"Starter for ten"...I hear you cry!

A muse, a book, an exhibition, a poem.
A visit to the Tate in Liverpool
or the Walker.

I saw an exhibition of Chinese artists just before Christmas.
The purity of the line and the meagreness of the palette was scrumptious.

So in need of something tangible I pulled out this book from the shelf.
I bought it in a second hand book shop quite a while ago and had a bit of a look from time to time.

All the artists are of the 20th c.

Li K'e-jan: Poets under Trees with Falling Leaves.
( describes this perfectly)

Me: Shell lying on the Beach in Goa.
( does it work?)

Lin Feng-mien: Herons in the Reeds.
( So few brush strokes).

Me: Driftwood Root with Stones Encased.
( did I get a bit too precious?)

Lin Feng-mien: Landscape with Yellow Trees.

Me: Driftwood with Hole - Found on the Bay.
(well I really did)

Lin Feng-mien: Actor in the Classical Opera.

Me : Large Driftwood in the Shape of Hiroshige's Wave.
( the name Hiroshige is classical!)

Why do the title's of the Chinese artists have such an authentic ring to them,
While mine might seem a little contrived I'm asking myself.

Ah well, I could call them....
Driftwood I
Driftwood II
Driftwood III
and Shell I

In fact I think I have, on the flickr site!!

Wednesday, March 30

A Poem for Thursday.

Oh silly me!
Did I think that I could do without poetry ?
Well I can't!

We went to The Tate Liverpool recently.
It was the oldest grand daughter's 15th birthday.
She loves her art!
The exhibition on the 2nd floor is curated by the poet .......
Carol Ann Duffy.
So lots of lovely words end up in paintings and all that.
There's a board with magnetic words on strips, and you are encouraged to put them together however you want.
Fantastic fun!
So here is what we did....
not earth shattering I know ...but brilliant!

Pretty deep I'd say!


The Old Dutch Woman.

 As well as many other things, grandfather Williamson was a painter.

We called this "The old dutch lady"
It graced the wall at the bottom of the stairs in the family home in Belfast.
Grandfather was Scottish, and the story goes that he trained at the Art College in Glasgow.
As my brother would say, "we have no definitive evidence for this!"
But I persuaded the Potter to go up to Glasgow once, to search for a clue.
We went to the Macintosh designed building and saw other similar paintings on the walls of one room.
Grandfather would have gone to the college long before this was built,
but to see the paintings so similar hinted at "definitive evidence".

Whatever the truth is, it went a long way towards my appreciation of art.
Now it hangs in the back room where I write these posts....still inspiring me.

Monday, March 28

Sweet Memories

I had such a good weekend up in the house in Morecambe.

The bay was at it's most glamorous......
.......that's Morecambe Bay for anyone new to my ramblings.

I said to the potter, that it was a watercolour day.
The lake district mountains in the distance looked as if the painter had turned them upside down and let the wash of colour settle in the top of the hills and the valleys were lost in a sweet mist.

Eric was his usual smiling self.
I never go past him but he is surrounded by happy people raising their left leg!

We sat outside at the Midland Hotel one evening.
The day was still warm,

and we drank our Guinness and watched the sun go down.

Old friends from Co. Down came by
so we sat in the lounge at the house and drank tea
and put the world gently to rights.

The fire was lit in the big hearth
and being old friends
we all but fell asleep.

Sheep graze on the salt marshes around the Bay.
Red Bank Farm have opened a little eaterie there.
 And they sell their home grown and home cooked Lamb Henry
with heaps of fluffy mash and petit pois and yummy gravy.

And then all that is left to do is have a walk along the salt marshes,
while happy dogs romp
 and kites are flown.

And travel back down the M6 for another week's work.