It has been a while since I last made a post to my blog.
I have been struggling with vagueness and lack of focus with the medication I’m taking, and this one I’m on now doesn’t suit either. As well as the vagueness, I’m constantly on edge and fidgety, and the medication is supposed to treat that not cause it. Have to give it a couple more weeks before it’ll be changed though. I’m still away from work as a result.
In spite of all of this I’ve still been busy with art, though the focus for the projects I’m involved in has been lacking at times, but just ‘doodling’ with no constraints or requirements does help me settle a little and also is something I can do that doesn’t need that focus.
In the summer I signed contracts to do the artwork for two books linked to art therapy. In the last week I was approached by another company to do one book for them in the first instance, and if it goes well then there could be a whole series of them. My hope is that I’ll have enough contracts and work lined up that I can go kind of part time at work. That won’t be for a while and I need to get myself better first, but the part time may be a way of helping me remain ‘better’ in the future. Time will tell.
Approx. 15cm x 20cm (6″ x 8″). Rotring Rapidograph pens on cartridge paper with watercolours, metallic inks and paints applied. It’s rather sparkly/glittery … which the camera doesn’t really pick up.
I own the copyright to this image and it may not be used or altered in any way without my written permission.
8″x 6″. Rotring Rapidograph pen and black ink on heavy cartridge paper.
I’m not quite sure yet what I’m going to do with this outline – colour or not to colour, texture or not to texture.
Last night I had friends visiting and a look for the drawing that I did when visiting Tewkesbury Abbey a couple of years ago led they and I to looking through some of my old sketchbooks. Suddenly, seeing all that had inspired me in the past, showed where my ‘visual vocabulary’ for my abstract art ‘doodles’ has come from. Prehistoric art, Romanesque and Gothic architecture and sculpture, La Tene art, ammonites and other fossils, microscopic formanifera, microscopic images of cells, stained glass windows, insects, shells, flowers, ‘Celtic’ manuscripts and Anglo-Saxon art to name but a few. I’d also picked up a copy of the BBC’s History magazine whilst out shopping as it had images of Anglo-Saxon artefacts which reminded me of patterns I use in my art. Yesterday seems to have been a day of making links between all the work I’ve done in the past and how it flows out of me now, and a reminder of the things that inspire me as well as giving me a sense of validation with the way that I create art.
I think subtle colours for this one, with textures added in places, and just the hints of metallic highlights perhaps – after all, my inner raven demands the sparkle!
Sonja Gartner has suggested that my dream job is a doodle artist designing colouring-in sheets for adult colouring-in books … and similar. Maybe she’s right!
Rotring pen, Sakura Glaze pen, Derwent Inktense pencils with water wash on heavy watercolour paper.
Small, intricate, full of spirals and swirls. Typically me when in a fussy, detailed mood.
Many of the patterns and shapes are inspired by ammonites, nature, cells, Romanesque architecture, Prehistoric pottery and rock art.
Synchronicity because there have been a lot of ‘coincidences’ noted in my life recently.
Back at work
Oh the joys of teaching! There is an element of sarcasm there. The lack of respect, manners and cooperation seems to have increased over the summer – either that or I’m getting old, having passed the 49 year mark during the long holidays.
I find myself emotionally drained at the end of each day after the constant hard work to get pupils to stop making assorted weird noises, disrupting the lesson in a myriad of ways, and just trying to bet them to be polite. I feel ‘battle weary’. Yet, teaching should not be such a battle.
The worst thing for me, however, is the effect this has on my creativity and the time to create. I miss the hours I could spend creating art during the break. If only I could earn enough from art reliably and sustainably to become a full-time artist…or writer…or or or…
Hypnotherapy
Well, yesterday, the Autumnal Equinox, saw the end of the hypnotherapy course. I have an extension to complete the case studies, so the work isn’t quite over for me. I managed, finally, to get a merit in one essay – hurrah!
Not sure if I’ll be able to start a hypnotherapy practice up for a few years for various reasons, but I’d like to keep my hand in and practice the skills I have learned until I’m ready to take that plunge.
Endings
Yesterday, in fact the past week or so, have been rather weird. I’ve found myself very emotional, on the point of tears or past the point of holding them back on a number of occasions, including today. I have no idea exactly what is the problem. I thought it was hormonal, but I’m not too sure about that now.
Anyway, the hypnotherapy wasn’t the only ending this week.
I resigned from a committee that I perhaps have stayed on for a few months too long.
I’ve had various bits of a jigsaw puzzle about a friendship that ended a few months ago. I’ve spent most of this time blaming myself as I was made to feel it was my fault. However, the jigsaw pieces show that it isn’t my fault at all!
Plucking blackberries from hedgerows bursting with the deep purple-black fruits of the bramble are memories of childhood.
Taking care not to prick fingers on the thorns, or get clothing snagged and torn upon them either. There were also the sticky burrs of goose-grass to avoid too.
It was all worth the hours of effort, however. Blackberry and apple pie, blackberry crumble, bramble jelly, and the blackberry wine my father brewed (if he could steal any away).
Blackberries were frozen by the plastic gallon re-used ice-cream tub to be used for Sunday desserts through the winter months too.
All of these things created once the blackberries had been washed in salted water to bring out any maggots that had burrowed their way into the fruits. If I caught sight of one single maggoty thing, I couldn’t eat any more of them, and eating them straight from the bramble was not an option for me. It’s no wonder I’m a vegetarian!
A free harvest that I no longer take advantage of, but may manage to do so this year if I can pluck up the courage to go by myself in to the countryside to do this.
Yes, I do mean courage, as I’ve become a bit of a recluse once again, not going out into the world where there are other human beings to encounter me. A long, personal story that is, but one I hope to change with time. The gist is I’ve allowed myself to be hurt by other people over the past few years. Things I was once involved with have gone by the by and I’ve not managed to replace these social activities with others. Oh, I do go out. I am involved in things, but the people I encounter are, generally, more acquaintances than anything else. I still seek and search for a sense of belonging in this world.
Even as I think back to childhood blackberrying, I remember that I was often alone even though the rest of the family were there, all chatting and laughing and playing amongst themselves while I was generally excluded, unless it was to be the butt of someone’s joke. Always funny for them…
Funny, the memories of blackberrying, and collecting bilberries, or whinberries as they are also called, are still ones of pleasure – the pleasure of the food produced as a result. Bilberries are small, blueberries, native to Britain.
Folklore
There’s plenty of folklore surrounding the humble bramble and it’s fruits.
“Throughout much of Britain there was a widespread belief that blackberries should not be eaten after a certain date.” [Vickery]
This date may have be that of the first frost, as then they become the Devil’s fruit and are not fit for humans to eat .
Michaelmas (29 September) or Old Michaelmas (11 October) relate to the biblical tale of Lucifer being thrown out of heaven for his proud, covetous ways by Archangel Michael (Isaiah 14:12). It is said that Lucifer landed in a bramble bush and cursed it, which is why people won’t eat blackberries after Michaelmas, saying variously that:
they have the Devil in them
the Devil peeps over the hedgerow and blasts them
so the Devil may have his share
the Devil spits on them
Hallowe’en (31 October) or All Saints’ Day (1st November) are also dates given as the cut off for blackberry consumption. As well as the reasons given above, this date also relates to the following:
they have the witch in them
the witches have peed on them
on Hallowe’en the puca has crawled on the blackberries.
“From a scientific point of view, blackberries contain a high concentration of bitter tasting tannins which over time accumulate in the fruit. Old Michaelmas day falls late in the blackberry season making berries picked around this time very bitter. To make matters worse, as autumn arrives the weather becomes wetter meaning the fruit will contain more fungus spores. This will not improve the taste either.” [BBC Nature UK]
Brambles were sometimes planted, or placed, on graves, one belief being that they stopped the dead from walking. Another reason is that they kept the sheep off the grave.
A superstition in Wales was “When thorns or brambles catch or cling to a girl’s dress, they say a lover is coming.” [Roud]
Art is the Adventure 