Archives: 16 July 2022

As an artist, the blank canvas can be both exhilarating and intimidating. It holds infinite possibilities, yet deciding what to paint can be a daunting task. Often, my mind goes through a fascinating dance of a hundred ideas, each vying for attention and expression.

As I stand before the blank canvas, my mind is like a kaleidoscope of creativity. Countless images, themes, and emotions swirl within, each eager to come alive through my brushstrokes. I must not be afraid to let my thoughts wander. Allow my mind to explore the uncharted territories of artistic expression.

Indecision may seem like a roadblock, but it’s a beautiful part of the creative process. Every flicker of doubt is an invitation to venture into unexplored artistic realms. Allowing myself to indulge in this indecision; is a sign that my artistic soul is yearning for more, seeking a perfect match between my vision and the canvas.

With each change of mind, I step into new perspectives. I might start with a serene landscape, then switch to a vibrant cityscape, and suddenly, an abstract composition captures my imagination. I have learned to embrace this ebb and flow; it’s a sign of growth and an indication that I am pushing the boundaries of my creativity.

In the constant flux of ideas, I might feel anxious or even lost. But I remember, change is inevitable, and it is where true artistic breakthroughs often lie. Finding comfort in the process of change, for it leads to self-discovery, growth, and the evolution of my artistic voice.

As you change my mind for the hundredth time, I try to remember that the process is as important as the outcome. I have to trust my instincts and embrace the journey.

In the realm of art, there are no rules, no limits. The blank canvas is my playground, where I can unleash the essence of my soul. It is sometime hard to let go though and to celebrate the freedom of expression and revel in the ability to change my mind boundlessly.

Changing my mind a hundred times (or more) while gazing at a blank canvas is not a sign of indecisiveness, but rather an ode to the artistic spirit within us. Allowing my brush to paint the world as I see it, as I feel it, and as I dream it – one idea at a time.

Today is the start of a heat wave in the UK.  Basically summer, but hotter than we are used to.  I’ve been able to go in my garden due to large trees that help shade us, and the two dogs have laid around doing nothing much.

A member of the site where i work gave us a photo to play with, so I decided to finally pull some paints out again for the first time in a long time.  I’ve not used these before but was thrilled with them!

Arteza watercolour brush pens are amazingly simple and far less bother than the normal oils i paint with.  A small pot of water, a supply of pens, and a canvas, were all i needed.  Easy to take into the garden with me and, to be honest, if i want to do an oil painting soon i can just go over this canvas.  Which i probably will as, when i tossed the water, it went over the canvas and the watercolour is now ruined.  I now have to learn how to seal these paintings.

Still, for simplicity and lack of mess, I’m very happy with these and will definitely do more paintings soon!!

I present you with the Three Ships… An Arteza watercolour painting.

She ducked down again as the pillars fell. Her eyes streaming tears which washed away streaks of dust and dirt. Her long dark hair stuck to her cheeks and got in her mouth and eyes. She blinked rapidly, trying to see a path ahead through the smoke like debris.

Another bomb hit. The building next to where she now knelt behind her father’s desk. A fresh wave of sobs hit her as she fought to forget his face, frozen forever in shock as the ceiling collapsed on him.

She sat down now, behind the large Oak desk, hugging herself, biting her lip so as to not to cry out aloud. She knew they’d left before the bombs began to fall, but they thought she was already dead. She grimaced as her fingers accidentally touched the raw wound on her neck. Her throat hurt with the dry, dirty, air. She fought to breathe but it was harder and the smell of burning, cooked meat and the screams were more than she could bear.

Pushing herself up off the floor she rounded the desk and saw… Nothing but the next building in ruins below her. Her father’s office, set on the 9th floor, had no wall now. Beyond his shagpile carpet and antique books, strewn across the floor, was the city, laid out before her. Smoke and fire everywhere. Once a hubbub of nationalities and life it was now a fallen shell.

The screams had stopped and a few people called for help, but mainly it was strangely silent. The bombers had left, happy with their work.

She inched forward and looked down over the edge of what was left of the room. Carved out of the tall, majestic, building was just a sheer drop. She could see, she realised, a signature on a beam of wood. Perhaps a workman had carved his loved ones name in it before carefully hammering his nails in place.

Gradually she became aware the voices calling for help had drowned away in a rising drone of aircraft engine noise.

Looking up she saw the bombers returning and she knew there was no hope for them now.

She gazed around… Eyes dry now and face set with a grim countenance. She said goodbye to her father and steadily walked out and over the edge of the building onto air.

O
M
Gosh

So I have been on an anti inflammatory diet for a little over a week now.  I lost 4lb in one week… Let me hear you say, YAY Abbie!

Ok, ok….. Sounds good……but I have another 4 stone to go and I am not a stickler for staying on things.  So let’s take it slow and easy…. I will say, yay me…. quieter….

Anyhooo, I have also got exercise before ? breakfast

hahahahahahahahahah cough hhahahahahahahah

I have just been walking on the spot with FitOn with a lady whose name I completely forgot after one minute of cheerful bopping (hers, not mine).  You start off walking gently, but to a beat, then it upgrades to knee crunches, (to the same beat), then kicks and finally side steps.  I was getting on famously until the cheerfully smirk lady starting pumping arms in different directions whilst we were doing kicks.  “Don’t you feel good?” she happily announced.  I just stared at the screen blankly whilst trying to raise my arms in the air yet again whilst kicking so high I stubbed my toe on my work desk.

Limping through another couple of minutes (already done 10 by now with another 10 on the cards), my resolve faltered and I leaned over doing an awesome stretch, and turned her off.

Tomorrow I will try again.  But, for now I am going to work.  It is EASIER!