Autumn things

Foraging in the woods, I find beech leaves, a small fluffy white feather and some browning bracken. And on the street, some golden gean leaves.
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Another First Time

I have been putting together my first ever solo exhibition.  "Local Letterboxes". This sounds exciting and it is, but I have this constant nagging voice at the back of my head saying things like :
1. "What if nobody comes to see it?"
2. "What if they do come and they don't like your paintings?"
3. "What if they do like them, make positive noises about them, but nobody buys anything?".
The rational, sensible, scientific part of my brain can sometimes respond - but not usually at 4am - with something along the lines of :
1. "You have put up lots of posters, there's a piece about it in the local paper and you've been posting on Facebook and Twitter for weeks now - what more can you do?".
2.  "If they don't like them, they will probably whizz round and then leave.  They are not terribly likely to come up to you and say they think it's rubbish.  They have not paid to view the exhibition. They will not be demanding their money back.  Not everyone will like your paintings. Fact."
3.  "Make the most of the feedback. Don't stress about selling - if you do, it will be obvious and probably put people off. It's more important that you're getting out there and showing the world (well, a small part of the world) what you do."
All artists have to find a way of living with the fear of rejection.  I have read about this on many artists' blogs; the above is simply a distillation of my thoughts on the matter.  It is very simplified; there are plenty other things to worry about.  But I intend to try and keep things in perspective and stick to these three.  It's remembering the replies that's the tricky bit!

My "Local Letterboxes" exhibition of watercolour paintings is on from 6th-11th August at the GALE centre in Gairloch, Wester Ross.

First Time

I am at my first fair. I was going to say craft fair, but it's not. It's Voluntary Service Aberdeen's Spring Fayre at Easter Anguston, just west of Peterculter on the outskirts of Aberdeen. There are about 10 of us with stalls - from jewellery to pegbags. It is proving to be an interesting experience. I am learning a lot and my smile muscles have not had such a good workout in a long time. Meeting some lovely people. A grand day out so far, in spite of the rather changeable weather.
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Something New

I have been neglecting this blog and for that I am sorry.  I have been busy with all sorts of things, including building my very own website.  Not from scratch, of course, but using a website-building toolkit.  Or whatever you call it.  I am nearly happy with it; it is nearly ready for human consumption.  To be honest, I will probably never be completely happy with it, so I am starting to spread the word about it.  Or the URL.  Of course, a website is not a static thing, a thing of perfection and beauty and all things to all people.  To try to make it so would be the way to madness.  So I have made something that I hope will work.  The aim is to provide a hub, a place from which you can find all the strands of the things that I do, that I create.  The paintings, the photographs and the writing.  The bits that interest you.  Eventually the blog over there will take over from this one here.  I don't intend to try to keep up two blogs. Let's face it, I can hardly maintain one.

The other thing I have been up to (I have been doing two things only?  Really?) is taking part in a Virtual Open Mic session, happening today. Hosted by Inky Fingers in Edinburgh. Being virtual, it doesn't matter that this is the case, of course.  And that I am in Aberdeen. There are two more episodes to come.  I've really enjoyed reading other folk's pieces and watching the videos some of them have posted.  A lovely range of work, from flash fiction to poetic prose to witty things in Scots. I think I would have enjoyed hearing them read out loud though.  That's where the videos work well. I guess that's the point of an open mic session. Maybe I will summon up the courage to venture along to a real live session before too long.  In the meantime, I'm off to read Episode 5.

The Walk

The walk - a trail of tiny white
pigeon feathers,
Lichen and
Sodden beech leaves
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Planning a Painting

I have this photograph, which I took on a recent trip to the west Highlands, as the background image on my mobile phone at the moment. I've done one sketch of it, plan to do some more tomorrow. I might even manage an actual painting. Decaying corrugated iron roofs seem to hold a certain fascination for me.
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Christmas Promises

This is a bit of a rant, written about this time last year.

Really, the stuff they use to catch your eye on the front of magazines these days is unbelievable.  Truly unbelievable.  And I don’t mean the magazines on the top shelf, either.  That’s a topic for another day.  Maybe.  No, I mean all the promises they give you, shouting in block capitals, red letters, bold typescript.  Some real ones on a magazine I actually subscribe to (but won’t be for much longer) actually say “668 ways to celebrate” and “48 fab new festive recipes”.  Perhaps you can guess which edition these were in.  Just in case you’ve not twigged yet, also included were “Turkey and all the trimmings in just 2 hours!” and “5 minutes to fabulous”.  Indeed. If only it were that simple.  I thought it took at least a week to recover from a facelift?  And surely it takes 24 hours to defrost a turkey?  

So, these promises got me thinking.  Of some alternative, equally outlandish ones.  That promise the earth and deliver nothing.  Or just make us more stressed than we were before we read them.  Some I came up with were “999 presents for you to buy in 30 minutes!”  “88 ways to get rid of bingo wings!”  69 reasons not to get out of bed in the morning” “24 lists to help you plan each hour of the day” and “3 minutes to spare? Ideas to fill them!”

What was most enlightening was comparing the cover stories of the aforementioned magazine with the December issue for this time last year, of a well-known men’s magazine.  The words “festive”, “turkey” and “celebrate” were completely absent.  There was only one tiny reference to “Xmas”.  In fact some of the headlines were “53 tips for building beer-proof Abs”, “Burn Fat Fast – lose 2 inches in 3 weeks!” (although that might put some guys off if they didn’t read it properly), “Sex on Demand! – Get What You Want Every Time”.  The two most amazing claims were – “Sleep Better, Live Forever” which I thought was a tad of a big promise, and “How to make £250,000 in just 10 months”.  The only teensy festive reference was “Free!  Her Xmas Gear Guide – Save Time and Effort Getting it Right”.  Well, that just about sums it up, doesn’t it?  She’s busy making 48 different festive concoctions in the kitchenette and he’s out buying her something to wear on the back of his motorbike/inappropriate underwear/a new box of tools in as little time as possible before dashing to the gym to tone his beer-gut, spending an hour on the phone talking to some weird person about making pots of money and then going to bed at 7pm so he’ll never die. 

So, what are the messages being received in these two cases?  As I see it, and you may see it very differently, I realise, women are being told to slave their butts off over the festive period while men are allowed to completely ignore it, save a quick dash to the shops on Christmas Eve to get some “gear” for his other half.  Although how men who read these magazines actually have other halves, is beyond me.  Ah, there’s the rub.  They probably don’t.  That’s the point.  They are for single men, who go home to Mummy for Christmas, since she’s been out and bought her magazine (or maybe her daughter-in-law gave her an annual subscription to it) and has made all those scrumptious-looking things that there are pictures of inside.  In between the pages of beauty advice and health problems and adverts that look like real articles, but are not.    And there’s that word “gear”.  I don’t know about you, but it conjures up drugs to me.  Either that or leathers for wearing on a motorbike.  It just doesn’t sound much like something a woman might like to receive – like a piece of art, a booking for a spa mini-break, perfume, chocolates, something tasteful to wear or even a beautiful piece of jewellery now, does it?  No.  But maybe that’s manspeak for those things.  Who knows?  I sure as heck don’t.

 

And now a calming photograph from when it was snowy last week.