What I did win on the Tombola and other stories

what i did win on the tombola

A jar of beef paste (containing chicken!?!). Who knew that such a thing even existed? Not me, that's for sure. I suspect it will be disgusting....I am enjoying drawing food in low afternoon style light though, it's funny how lighting can affect the whole mood of an image and I like the way the lighting here suggests that the jar was the last thing left...abandoned and unwanted... on the tombola table.

pink enough?

The above are pictures of my stall at the ladies pamper day on sat...not very well attended, but fun all the same. I made some very simple notebook/sketchbooks out of old comic books I had.

I have been thinking this week about those old fashioned masks that you can get for parties, and that's why I drew another face that's missing the bottom half. I suspect it will be quite scary, when worn....I will make some and post photos. It also occurs to me that it would be fun to have masks of family members so that everyone can wear each others face, or everyone can wear the hosts face.
Well, I think it's a good idea.

What I have been doing this week and some blather about working from photos.

So, these are the drawings for this week, and I am quite liking working with oilbar on found papers. It appeals to my inner recycler, it's cheap, and you can get a lot of extra meaning into an image without even doing it on purpose! It's win win.
I do work from photographs....not exclusively, but mainly. I know that there are some people who really frown on the use of photos for reference, but for me a photo, especially a family one, has a very particular atmosphere. A photo is a record of a moment gone, a moment lost or frozen, which makes me feel wistful or sad about the subject, landscape or human. Photographs seen in this way function as a kind of memento mori, a reminder that life is short and a record of all the lost moments of that lifetime.
Oh, and photos stay still.....

Work in Progress and Loss of Creative Mojo

Yes I know.... I haven't been here for a while, what can I say? Sometimes the creative mojo just leaves, and then what do you do? In my case it's feel mildly depressed and eat a lot of cake! Next time this happens I'll blog about cake.....

There'll be bluebirds, well one anyway... and an egg.

The bird design started out as an accident, I had an offcut of glass that just looked like a bird and I just went with it. The tail feathers too, began as a way of making sure the hook didn't fall off! There is a lesson here isn't there, that mistakes and accidents often lead to innovation? (I didn't say it was a new one.) I like the simplicity, and the joy of these, they're chirpy, if you'll pardon the pun...

....and Illustration

I've realised that despite the title of this blog being stained glass and illustration I have never actually posted any illustration....oops. Today, this will be rectified and those of you that have never seen my illustration work will see what I meant in an earlier post when I said that the glass is like one side of my personality and the illustration is the other. The pretty and the downright dark!
I am also including a (very) short story because it kind of goes with the picture. It needs extending and reworking but here it is anyway.

Bread

By Naomi Frances

It all started on a bright February day about 15 years ago. My brother Charlie and I were sitting in the kitchen, idly chatting away the morning over a cup of tea, everyone else had gone out. The doorbell rang and when I went to the door there was no one there but a wrapped loaf of bread lay on the red tiled step, the tissue rustling slightly in the breeze. As I picked it up I felt the newly baked warmth on my fingers.

‘Where’d that come from?’ said Charlie

‘Dunno, found it on the step’ I replied, shrugging my shoulders, ‘Smells nice though.’

The next morning, the same thing happened again.

I assumed that mum had arranged a bread delivery, it wasn’t until later that I realised that no bakery would deliver on a Sunday, and why did they leave the bread on the step?

The bread kept coming, day after day, and although it always smelled delicious, Charlie would never let any of us eat it.

Three months or so passed until I was home again, and I had seen Charlie very little in that time. So it was a shock to see him pale and thin, sucking on a roll up at the kitchen table.

‘Good God, what on earth is wrong with you?’ I gasped, shock making me abrupt.

He glanced over his shoulder, then back at me and mumbled ‘Nothing, nothing’s wrong, nothing.’

Later that weekend, Charlie was brought home by a couple of friendly policemen.

‘Found this one, tied to a lamp post, covered in solid bread dough! Reeked of booze ‘e did, reeked!’ laughed one.

‘Lads and their japes eh?’ laughed the other.

Charlie laughed along with them, but the laughter didn’t reach his eyes and although he did reek of alcohol, I had never seen him more sober.

Over the next few months Charlie’s behaviour became more erratic; he worked impossibly long hours, and never seemed to eat.

I heard later that he had borrowed large amounts of money from ‘The Bakers’ a notorious Suffolk gang. It was a calculated risk, his business was growing fast, tourism was good and the banks had refused to lend him any money. I think he felt that he had no choice. No one could have foreseen the explosion at Sizewell B nuclear power station, that left Leiston a battered shell and our part of Suffolk a no go area for tourists. People moved away in their thousands and Charlie’s fledgling joinery business failed. He couldn’t keep up his repayments and The Bakers had reminded him, in their own sinister way, that there was no escape.

Charlie hasn’t eaten bread since, you can’t even talk to him about toast, and he will travel miles out of his way to avoid passing a bakery. He never did tell me how he got away from them, but something in him changed and The Bakers are to blame.

Makers Boutique

Here is a lovely photo of my stall at the Unitarian Church in Brighton today (if you look closely you can see my helper!) It was a good day, if a little tiring but tired is what you get when you stay up late finishing work and then have your eight year old son 'helping' all day. As usual the birds sold very well, makes me wonder if perhaps I should put up the prices? I always find pricing really difficult, mainly because I get carried away when I'm working and don't pay attention to how much time is passing. I also tend to price for what I can afford, and of course I don't know how much disposable income anyone else has, so this approach is flawed.
I will post some pictures of the easter eggs I made. I didn't sell many, which is a shame in one way but it does mean that my eastery decorations will be pretty marvellous this year! Any excuse for a bit of a bauble....

New Work Hurrah!

Well here it is at last, some new(ish) work. There is a theme....Did you guess? I am still a little obsessed by the sea, it comes in waves..........