I have a dirty little secret...
I have a Faerie Persona...'Oberon's Wood'.
There, it is out, I can now join the secret society of artists who 'Do Fantasy'!
This means that I will never, ever be taken seriously as an 'Artist'.
It isn't that I am ashamed...I would have mentioned it before but Victorian things got in the way...so...
I have been painting faeries, I enjoy this, sometimes though they just refuse to sit still long enough for me to capture them, they're tricky, faeries!
I am also sculpting portraits of dead people.
How my mind works is a puzzle.
In one day I can be drawing a beautiful little fae child, then later have my arms covered in clay trying to decide how to create a new 'Memento Mori'...is there something wrong with me?
The more teeny things you create, the more of your house they take over.
I am thinking that the time has come to pack them all away in an old trunk and chain them up!
But I would just feel sorry for them and let them come out for a while, maybe feed them, you know what happens then...
I draw every day.
I think drawing is my happy place.
I was drawing a balloon this morning...see what I mean...my mind has a mind of its own.
I sit on the sofa, (I do not have a studio, which is a problem when I am painting), and have a cup of tea and some dark chocolate by my side and just draw...a truly happy place.
Later though...I enter the 'Painting Place'...cue scary music...this is not such a happy place, it is full of monsters and doubts and struggles...it pulls my hair and pinches me.
It calls me names and sniggers at me.
It mocks me.
Painting is tricky, you have to make sure that you use the correct brushes, not the ones you have just been painting faeries in oils with and then decide to touch-up a watercolour...doesn't work, believe me!
I love to paint but I don't feel that am very good at it.
I have doubts about my abilities.
I think many artists are like this.
The more I learn about the way you should paint, the less I know how to paint.
I am what the 'establishment' would call a 'Kitchen Painter', they mean this in a derogatory way, to me it is a necessity, it is the only place available for me to paint and sculpt.
A kitchen painter I am.
Someone once said to me, that it must be lovely to be able to 'just create things'...oh deary deary me...
If only they knew.
Faeries, dead folks, balloons...
Yes, it is lovely to 'just create things'.
Lovely in the same way that my chocolate tastes before I think about it making me tubby.
Lovely in the way that your children grow up and fly away and do not need you anymore.
Lovely in the way the familiar old person looks at you in your mirror.
And then I turn to my 'Memento Mori' once more...
This leads to thoughts of life and death and also what kind of art you will be leaving behind.
What will your achievements be?
See what I mean...it's lovely.
Though, to be honest, I find the temptation to create things so delicious that I face my monsters head on.
Face to face.
Bring it on...
Or at least wait until I have made the cookies (in my 'studio') and have one in my hand as a shield.
Then I can face anything...