Quite a while ago, in fact when exactly is vague, I designed a zigzag pattern using a watercolour brush in a painting app on my iPad. Its purpose was specific, the background panel for the title block on this blog.
My husband returned home from walking Stan with the gift of a feather. We think it is from a rainbow lorikeet because of the green and yellow colours. I decided to use it as inspiration for a watercolour.
Being fond of ovoids, I sketched out an idea and painted the first wash. A few more layers followed.
Horizontally, it looked a bit like a misshapen footy ball. In portrait it resembles an avocado. At this point, I sprayed water onto it. A soft outline formed from the wet edge. Rivulets of colour settles in the warped dips of the contorted paper. I added reused salt crystals and left it to dry overnight.
The zigzag pattern remained in the back of my mind during the process.
I added the darker yellow oval, fresh salt and darker areas to the green and brown topped with recycled salt.
When travelling to and from work, I have backpacked: laptop, headset, headphones, compact umbrella, face masks, cotton bags, hand sanitisers, tissues, wallet, keys, key card, pens, pencils, eraser, sketchbook, propelling pencil. When possible, capture moments. The following and sketch above filled fifty minutes.
when one is really quite weary how dreary dearie surreptitiously seeking inspiration questions no right asking even if strong featured person opposite is known consciously combined cosmetics for commuting? muted tones without shading to avoid notice? only one or one of many masks?
Last Saturday, having gazed at the bookcase from my chair, I was inspired to create something using three ceramic pieces modelled on nature. A leaf, a shell adorned cornucopia, and a hyacinth leaf vase.
I arranged and drew around the objects in pencil then ink. I decided on purple for the cornucopia using the colour of mussel shell for inspiration, predictably green for the leaf, and finally orange for the vase.
On Sunday, I thought the shapes I had chosen worked well together as there was movement between them from the colours intermingling. Wishing to add depth and luminance, I added yellow washes to the orange and green and redid the ink outline.
After deciding the abstract picture was called harmony in nature, I added three black undulating lines to ground and orientate the central image.
This was my first foray into fountain pen ink sketching and an ink wash. The Parker Qink dried extremely quickly. I diluted it, painting onto dry paper.
The ink is from a time of my youth in the 1980s, the Parker Sonnet pen, a gift from work colleagues when we left the UK to emigrate to Australia in 1998.
My naïveté continues to be a theme. I had not considered the inked lines would run when with watercolour was added. I worked with it.
Aging and some of the medication I take have a side effect of shaky hands. I used one of my pencil sketches of a dinosaur. I cut the sketch out, pencil shaded the outline and inked in the outline.
The painting developed as it was created.
Salt was added to the night sky, the background of the ovoid contained figures, and the centre of the seven orange shapes. They represent one thousand miles markers across the Pacific Ocean and the equator from South East Queensland to California.
It is night time where I am, represented by pink Airhead. I engage with my blogging buddy Ra as Rawr the dinosaur through thoughts, dreams, and engaging with each other’s work.
The painting can be viewed with night at the bottom or the top.
Inspired by the 21st century couturier, Iris van Herpen at Queensland’s GOMA (Gallery of Modern Art), Brisbane, I present a modest collection of organic poems and images from the exhibition.
For the last two years I have been in a state of threat at work. While the employer proclaims it is a place of inclusion and authenticity, I wonder if this statement relates only to the loud and pushy at the expense of others. Perhaps I am not resilient enough, unwilling to speak out, and too sensitive.
When my values were tested too much, I fought back (in a shy introverted way). I was labelled ‘emotional’. I resorted to my go to fawn response with underlying frustration and at times anger. I aimed to please and appease by sacrificing myself.
Over the last twelve months, somehow, I sustained this tiring performance, achieving a personally unnecessary glowing annual performance review. Satisfactory would have been enough.
When I recently found out the perpetrator was being reassigned, I felt numbness and disbelief.
I developed fawning from ages 9 to 16 years. The seemingly constant aggression directed at my mother and brother by my first stepfather brought firsthand experience of rage, domestic violence, and abuse. I largely kept my thoughts and feelings to myself. Withdrawing my marshmallow being behind a protective shell. As soon as I was able, I fled away to college.
At the beginning of this week, perpetrator free, I felt like a huge weight had lifted from my shoulders.
This painting reflects pleasing and appeasing while dark emotions and discontent underlaid my view of my workplace. The grey background represents compromise, neutrality, control, and practicality. I am represented by an anonymous outward facing ovoid, outlined with dark blue and red inks. The teal inner self displays responsiveness, integrity, and practicality. It contains pink organic shapes of kindness, caring, and compassion; essential for my role. Salt adds fractures to the composition.
In my late teens and early twenties, I experienced hospitality working as a casual, selling fish and chips at Neptune’s Pantry, as a banqueting waiter at the Raven, hall porter at the Chateau Impney, and barman/porter/night manager at the Windermere Hydro hotels.
After completing college in 1984, I was disillusioned by the prospect of working long hours in a hotel for the rest of my life. Back at home in Droitwich, I looked at other options. A newspaper advertisement for a full time position in retail caught my eye. Mom drove me the six miles to Worcester for the interview. It was supposed to take 20 to 30 minutes.
The manager, Michael Dray had me describe the selling features of a fawn Italian leather high heel shoe with a gold piped darker tone lizard skin inverted chevron at the top of the counter (behind the heel). At the time, this shoe was the most expensive in the shop, around £250 in 1984, equivalent to £1000 today.
After spending about two hours with Mr Dray and returning to the car, Mom was both happy I got the job and unhappy for having to wait for me without knowing what was taking so long.
These mixed emotions transferred to me as happiness and anxiety, throughout my employment at R&B. My work colleagues were a wonderful mix, ranging from elder and younger sister types to the outrageous. Other than the manager, I was the only male employee.
Our employment rewarded us with an hourly rate plus a percentage of sales commission. I had not considered the pressure weekly sales targets would have on me. It was calculated using the performance of the store for the same week in the previous year plus a mark up and divided between the number of employees working.
Other incentives included, ends of lines having a ‘spiff’ sticker attached to the box. The colour translated to a one-off £ value paid in addition to commission.
Every person entering the emporium was a prospect who should not be allowed to leave until a purchase had been made. If they were interested in slippers, it was expected, we introduce a matching handbag, polish, shoe trees, signing up for a store card, boots, shoes; you get the picture.
Whilst I had experienced the need to perform at school and college through achieving the requisite grades to graduate, sales was and still is an anathema to me. Anything more than charming, chatting, and cheering on when I disagree with what I am doing leads to poor performance. A completed store card application that passed credit checking earned £1 for the sales assistant and potentially a life of debt for the shopper. In the six months or so I spent at R&B, I did not once achieve my sales target.
Today, I am surprised by my naivety of not thinking things through before jumping headlong into them. In hindsight, I learn through failure by picking myself up and trying something new.
Back to the happy times at R&B, through the ladies collection, my eyes were opened to a world of coloured leathers including, navy, white, cerise, Capri, taupe, chocolate, salmon, raspberry, lemon, lime, emerald, ruby, claret, sapphire, opal, silver, gold, bronze. The men’s mainstay of black and brown occasionally branched out into silver or mid grey, tan and, blue.
I used every opportunity to try on ladies and men’s shoes that took my fancy. I fell into the role of clown, parading around the stock rooms, much to the delight of my coworkers.
We purchased our own uniforms. Males wore a suit with shirt and tie. My female counterparts an outfit selected by the floor supervisor, a tall slim, Miss Dixon. It changed twice per year and did not suit all body shapes.
A condition of our service was the wearing of a pair of ‘shop shoes’ from the company’s range for six months. They were not allowed to leave the premises. Our bags were checked every time we went out. We paid a quarter of the retail price. I chose a £100 pair of tan Moreschi tasselled half brogue loafers with a grosgrain vamp.
During my time there, I attended a course on fitting children’s shoes in Norwich at the Startrite factory so that I could assist during busy back to school periods.
My work mate, Tracey ‘ace face’ Melling ran the children’s department on the mezzanine. Outside work, a goth with backcombed hair, ripped black clothing, and black, white, and purple makeup. Each day, Tracey drew on eyebrows after arriving late to work. I still smile at the thought of the surprised faces of children and parents looking at Tracey without eyebrows or with only one drawn on.
Tracey was hugely creative. During a quiet period, Tracey drew pencil sketches of pigs wearing R&B shoes on the back of Clarks packing labels. I was gifted with the sketches which I copied to paint corresponding watercolours.
I began at R&B during the period of the Autumn/Winter uniform of black skirt and dark raspberry blouse.
Spring/Summer followed, Capri skirt with blouse of splodges of blue, pink, and green.
Fully utilising a 25% discount, my shoe collection grew to include leather soled and lined canvas shoes in two tone blue and in fawn; polished burgundy, black, dark brown, and dark fawn suede brogues, tan boxer boots, the list goes on. Only the Moreschis remain.
theINFP 