I’m frenetically painting late at night and early morning (and certainly on Fridays) to prepare for our South Coast Party of Art exhibitions. (See events calendar)
It’s now that I realise the common denominator of all creatives, that of self esteem, and in these moments I know I’m creative to my core.
I’ve come to realise that whatever I’m doing, cooking, walking, driving, talking, I always see art! And I express that through painting, photography, writing and, indeed, consultancy.
There is art in art, everywhere.
One man sees a door that needs painting – and and artist sees empowering beauty.
In this photograph I took on a sailing holiday in Greece, I can feel the history that has stripped this window of its glossy paintwork. I can sense the craftsmanship of whoever carved the window, and then lovingly positioned it to create a home for a family.
I see the times that this window has been thrown open to breathe in warmth and sunshine, or been shut tight against the elements, and taken the battering of the wind and rain, to keep the family inside snug and safe.
I see art in everything.
When I’m painting I’m messy. No doubt about it – I’m taken over by some immense meditation that softly or vigorously throws paint and colour through the sinews of my being until I’m satisfied. It’s passionate, and to some extent its primal.
The brushes are cast across the old battered paint stripped wooden cupboard where my art materials cascade in chaos. The tubes pile up one on top of the other, being lost, being found, being squeezed until eventually these deformities become art in themselves.
The brushes are thrust into a myriad of jam jars, sometimes too small to house them and the paints meld and cake themselves onto the glass in beautiful hues. With the sun streaming through the window these become art and I reluctantly, and only occasionally, am forced to clean them. In my artist’s mind, these jars are ancient, they are blood sweat and tears, they are earth and sand and sunshine, they are a cave dwellers vain attempt to capture history, and they are beautiful.
Whilst holidaying in Greece, I was taking many photos of typical Greek architecture, loving the terracotta hues and the bright colours. I also love this simple shot.
Pushing my camera through some iron railings, I photographed this chair table basket and bucket on the terrace of an old house.
The bleak colours, the battered woodwork, the simplicity became a most beautiful inspiration for some work I’m creating right now.
The artist sees life play out right here in this courtyard. I imagine the many times this chair has welcomed it’s owner to rest. Supporting them as they sit back to feel the sun on their face, or to wait for the washing to dry, nurse a grandchild, call to a friend, reflect on their dreams. I can imagine the washing in muted, natural shades of cottons and linen, wafting in summer climes like drifting memories on a warm breeze .
I see art in everything.
Among my friends I have many artists, those that don’t even dare to pick up a brush, and those that paint with wild abandon.
When I ran the art school in Lanzarote, we’d discover such varied expression from the delicate two dimensional – to the prolific and expansive – I’m delighted the artist in me has been set free and as I head towards a number of exceptional opportunities over the coming months, I have to applaud that there’s an artist in us all.
If you’d like to attend one of my ‘Party of Art’ celebrating art and music, then keep an eye on the FAMARA events page!