The two-headed dancing sunset thief thing is glorious and totally imponderable. Makes no sense, cant see whats happening, its got issues I can't address. Like, the hands are holding a red thing that echoes (in theory) the red sunset -it casts a red lights under it, as if it were transparent and giving off light, except it doesn't, it looks like some unspecified sexual organ which wasn't the intention. Haven't a clue what to do.
Over-painted a thoroughly nasty painting of a rape that I have been returning to on and off for a while. Discovered that if gave the male aggressor little horns in his hair, he turned into a perfectly safe classical allusion. Take them away and there's a nasty aggressive bit of murder happening. Haven't ever liked it, not happy about exploring it any more, have started copying a drawing on top. The drawing is a crumpled nude, cant remember when I did it or of whom. Its not that good but theres a feel of possible development in it.
Have a large and a small canvas ready to go, leaning against the studio walls. The emerging sunlight cast shadows - on the large, the empty bird feeder, some trees, on the small a drawing of a bird I'd done on the window with hot glue. Enchanting.
Want to copy, tired of inventing. At 10.00 am went to the drawing group where Suzie was modeling. Took watercolour and drew in water, dropping pigment into the wet. One or two work, mostly crap. Not clear (again) about why I do this... the finished, successful drawings are over and no use to me, the bad in-process ones are too bad to use. I suppose that every now and again something comes up. It is a chance for something to surface.
Disquieted when a colleague suddenly put his head by mine as I was working, to offer his comments; lucky I didn't have a knife handy, totally ruined the flow of my concentration. He's a teacher, can't help it probably - but next week (if I go) its against the wall at the end of the room. Remembered all that horror of drawing in public, when you are regarded as a public resource. Another one of the group is working with charcoal pencil which makes the most dreadful scrapping noises. Not only breaks concentration but hurts the face. Hmm, an ex-teacher - is there something to be learnt here??
Tire still flat, pump no good, will walk to Ferrens now in the sunshine and take a bus back. Ian has given me a broken coffee machine with hotplate. Hope to finish up there soon.
*
Later; walked there, beautiful though cold, dawdled and enjoyed the walk, the river, the sense of moment in arriving at an ancient fort; the chestnut dark squirrels, a heron mounting on a thermal (new one that), looking out for otters but none seen. Got to Ferrens fairly knackered and found his doors locked. Kicked and swore. He appeared; I'd forgotten his doors jam and have to be kicked in. The coffee hotplate worked but not enough, though the bain-marie could be heated on the gas in the kitchen it solidifies too fast. Work ok though and I pulled a few stunts - like, little distant silhouettes in ochre that finish the flow of the swath of the work.
Mis-read the bus timetable home. Realised I was an hour out, didn't want to go back to Ferren, walked to Campagne for the store and /or cafe. Its Monday. Both closed. Too tired to walk back to the road so took the river road back to Esperaza, reflecting on the comfort of putting one foot in front of the other to mindlessness.
Hot soak, dinner, now on second glass of wine. Want another early start tomorrow and a finish to the mural. Took some photos, its OK I think. And anyway, anyway... how seriously do I want to take all this? Learnt a bunch of technical stuff and enjoyed the process. Good. Enough.
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