Art Photography Stands Begin

Bought some wood today to make new stands for the rails for my art photography. I have a conundrum. I had 6 lengths cut, 95mm wide by 1147mm long, from 18mm deep MDF. These 6 pieces had to be cut from two pieces of MDF, so the 1147 length was about 1mm out for two of the lengths (numbers 2 and 5 in the picture; I chose these as the central plank). Each width isn't perfect but this is less important. The length needs to be as accurate as possible. I've glued them together to make 2 bunches of 3. Here is the end:

This, ideally, should be completely flat. I need to work out the best way to do this. If I had a band saw or table circular saw (or table anything) this would be easy, or much easier, but I haven't. I could use a router, but 72x95mm is a big edge, I have no router bits 72 or 95mm long (the depth in the view above is 95mm). I wondered about fitting a cutting drill to the router. I could sand it flat, but would ideally need a right-angle sanding table. My drum sander is best at removing wood but is hand-held, like all of my sanders. Alternatively, I could saw it by hand somehow. The jigsaw should be deep enough. A hand cut would probably be more accurate than the current edge, but not perfect, and it might be less accurate. The 1mm tolerance there now might be enough.

Alternatively I could cut it shorter and glue a flat piece accurately on top, using a gap filling plaster-type glue. I'd need to experiment again with glues. I've had some good results from wood glue and chalk to make a thick glue; but I'd have to do this separately for each of the two stands (the two groups of three) so that itself might make the results less accurate than they are now; it's most important that they are the same, the exact height isn't so important.

Stockport, Hedge and More, Hockney

Two busy days. Yesterday, a physically demanding day dropping off artwork to Stockport. I booked an Open Off-Peak Return train ticket for the 11:10 before realising that the gallery didn't open until 13:00, so we decided to take the 12:10; yet at 10:24 I thought that perhaps the taking the 11:10 was an essential ticket requirement and panicked that we wouldn't be allowed on the 12:10, so I dashed the mile to to railway station to at least collect the tickets before the trip. I had to pay £4 extra for real tickets rather than 'e-tickets' on the smartphone I don't have; another premium. I made it back for 11:10 after a near-run there and back, then had to rapidly eat, wash and pack before departing at 11:40 for the 12:10. We made it, and the trip went without a hitch.

After the drop-off we wandered around Stockport for a couple of hours. This became exhausting, I'd forgotten that the town was so mountainous. We explored a few shops in unexpected summer heat, then dashed for the 15:04 train (which, like the outgoing train, was late) and home, buying things to cook and eat on the way. After the meal, Deb re-potted some plants, and ultimately the hours flew.

Today started by a big job of an annual trim of the garden hedge, re-packaging new heavy-duty staples (which involved heat and solvent, they're so badly packaged), wrapping presents for my brother's birthday, repainting a porcelain statue which I'd accidentally broken. The glued parts have set well but there are two tiny fragments missing. Not yet any other work done.

I heard that David Hockey died. I guess that Francis Bacon, David Hockney, and Lucien Freud were three key artists of British mid-20th century art, in that order with Bacon the shining star. After that Gormley, Kapoor, and the YBA's but these are the next generation. I also discovered that our 11:10 train was over 45 minutes late anyway, so all the better to skip that.

Kafka Glazing Complete, Art Photography

Second day of Kafka glazing yesterday.

Today started with art photography of three new paintings: 'Song Of Innocence', 'Love And Fragility In The Age Of Perfection', and 'The Blood Of Winter'. Setting up lights and the camera track took over an hour, and photography, digital stitching and disassembly of the rig took until 13:00. Then framing 'Song Of Innocence' for the Stockport Open drop-off tomorrow. Thus the day has flown on these small but important tasks.

I modified the lights a bit today, repairing one light and naming each leg for each position, as some stick or don't work in some positions. The tripods are the most complex and awkward part of the photography set up, each has a swivel head and the pair need perfect parallel alignment at an exact height. There's no need for adjustment of the height, so a fixed wooden post would do the job far more easily, so my next job is to build this. While photographing today I experimented with height adjustments for 300dpi, and this can be improved. The resolution before was nearly 400dpi, making the photographs large to process, and requiring more segments than needed. I'll aim for 330dpi.

Glazing Kafka

First day of glazing the Kafka portrait.

John Deaconitis, All Things Bright And Beautiful Plans

Felt a little lost yesterday and over the weekend, darting from one thing to another in an unconstructive way. This was partly due to the circumstance of needing to visit Cotebrook on three consecutive days, that plus charging into developing 12 paintings at once, and aiming to write bits of my book - scattergun plans.

Last night I listened to my latest music purchase, Queen's The Miracle, an album which was (when it was released) our first CD purchase for our new and amazing CD player when I was 16 years old. Oddly, my memory of this event takes place in our old house in Culland Street, even though we left there in 1985 or so. Anyway, I've had Queen's albums up to The Game for years, but have recently decided to buy the rest as a reward for different milestones. I've bought the Deluxe Version, which comes in rubbishy cardboard packaging which went immediately into the bin; but the music is brilliant, especially the second CD. I didn't like the album much in the 1980s, but now I love it.

Last night I sang along, and have even jammed along on guitar, which is always great fun. At night though, I fell into a despair, and today too.

Today I think this is a new disease: John Deaconitis. I used to think that John, the so-called 'quiet member' of the band, somehow let the band down by leaving Brian and Roger to tirelessly (in every sense) perform and promote Queen since Freddie Mercury's death. Queen are uniquely a band with a fixed canon (we must discount the Queen and Paul Rodgers album); and Brian and Roger have promoted their legacy and performed their past works for longer, now, than the band itself was active.

John wrote 'I Want To Break Free', and I felt this was a not-so-hidden message. I suddenly felt that he was the most emotional member of the band, perhaps the most fragile. I thought of Anthony Phillips, the original guitarist from Genesis who couldn't cope with the pressure of being in a band and quit after one or two gigs. I, with Deaconitis, was hit again with the devastation of Freddie Mercury's death, and suddenly felt unable to continue in art. I thought of the desperate quest for financial security, which is an ever-present trap for art; nobody is secure, the engine of success is to charge forwards aflame. For an artist, art or death must be the only options, and only in death can an artist succeed.

In the morning I wrote a few more words to my oil painting book, then investigated plans for making some new stands for art photography, though these were distractions from my main plans of painting; these unwelcome distractions due to my searching brain. Then, at last, I felt cured and started to work on one of the new painting ideas. One way to limit being overwhelmed is to plan works in group of 4. Here's the original idea:

The painting is as much a mood as anything, perhaps a quest for love or recognition. I expanded this a little, using a dandelion as a visual theme. Now the figure in repose, perhaps like the woman in The Untouchable Strawberry, is a monolith and monument. I changed the title to 'All Things Bright And Beautiful'.

In my mind, it's a funerary monument, yet organic and beset with weeds, a monument to art. It's not so much personal as heroic and romantic. I'll complete the drawing transfer this evening. Tomorrow I aim to paint Kafka. Onwards we charge.

Deserted Party Dream, Cotebrook Collection

I dreamt of a party. It was night, downstairs in a house somewhat like this one. My parents were present, and I think Deborah. I was looking at a picture frame, examining the gold and dusted edge, a finish like the God Being Killed frame from Cotebrook. Derren Brown arrived and wanted to show us a trick. I went upstairs to drop off the frame, my mind focused on my art work. I came down to find the house dark and empty, I was alone. In distress I searched and cried for the others to no avail. I'd never felt so alone.

The dream woke me for many hours, hunger was perhaps a factor as I'd eaten perhaps 1000 calories yesterday due to strange food times. Slept accidentally until late and woke feeling exhausted, a feeling which persisted for most of the day.

I followed Mark Eaton on Instagram, an oil painter and excellent portrait artist whom I met at the Cotebrook opening. Wrote a few hundred words of my painting book, and prepared the frame for the Claire Luce portrait, which I must photograph before Friday. Then, the trip to Cotebrook to collect my paintings. I felt that my work stood out but my works had no response from public votes; this is normal.

Discounting speaking with my darling Deborah, I perhaps speak more words when singing on my albums than I speak to most humans in other ways in a typical year. I've had more social, more isolated times; and recent years have been the latter. I noted that we've had no Fall in Green performances or engagements so far in 2026.

This evening, working on a painting drawing. Only after the meal at 17:30 do I have any energy.

Onwards we roll our heavy rock. Nature's sun welcomes us, a new day of art beckons.

Art Choices, Cotebrook Drop

Spent much of yesterday checking competition dates and organising. I may enter the Stockport Open next week, and checked my RWA entries. I didn't enter the RWA last year, so I could enter those planned pieces this year (only on my first attempt in 2016 did I have a painting selected for the RWA; 10 years, I tried again in 2017, 2018, 2023, 2024).

Wrote about brushes in my How to Paint book in the afternoon, before the drop-off to Cotebrook Village Hall near Tarporley, of which the launch is later today.

Also scanned many painting ideas which I thought were good, that deserved to be painted. Idea after idea seem brilliant, deserving of being seen, being painted. Almost tearful at them and the huge lack of visibility for these. I sized the ideas and marked the paper. I needed criteria of which to paint. Many are distinctively mine, many have pathos - these are two key criteria; but what will be their destination? Most of my art over the years has simply say here, unseen or rarely seen. I enter competitions and exhibitions, and now have a gallery to sell works, but much of my work isn't commercial in the decorative sense. Some would suit museums, the Kafka portrait for the Kafka Museum, 'Self Inspection At Theresienstadt' for the Jewish Museum, or in Israel, with Fritta's. The Dadd painting should be in the Tate; yet most of my work would really need a Mark Sheeky Museum because it barely fits anywhere else.

I can charge into painting, I can paint faster than ever, and this year my plans are for larger paintings. This means that each painting takes longer, costs more in materials and resources, and takes up more storage space, but large works are more easily sold and more impressive in any event, so perhaps larger is better, except that it limits quantity of art because larger paintings take more time.

It's interesting that my work largely emulates Dali's in size; a huge variety from tiny to large, though I rarely paint over 1M (The Invisible Woman is 69x120, Revelation 120x74). Most competitions now limit size to under 1M, and these are hard to show or transport anywhere. The new gallery will be my first chance in years to show and sell these large works. Revelation, for example, is unframed and have only been shown for one day during our first Fall in Green performance, 14 Jul 2017

Benatar Layer, Song Of Innocence Glazing

Hopes to glaze the Pat Benatar painting today, but the eyes needed adjustment, so did with a secondary opaque layer, a post-underpainting.

Then added a second glaze layer (and the signature) to the simple portrait of beauty 'Song of Innocence'. I rarely add more than one glaze layer, but I felt that this painting, destined to be and be defined by its smoothness, would benefit from another glaze. No quicker was the brilliant glaze finished than it looked again unstarted. So it is with glazing. The painting looks rough, glazing makes it smooth, and at the end seems to look no better; an illusion, the smoothness and colour changes become homogenised in your eye's psyche. This is, so far, my most Mona Lisa of paintings. Prettier than any, smoother than any.

The Daisy and Kafka paintings (and now Benatar) are the only ones left to glaze, so new ideas are needed. But what? I have too many, each with different appeal, and crucially none appeal more than others. Prize-winning appeal is different from commercial sale appeal, and 'artistic' power, for for certain types of contemporary art prize, is often totally uncommercial, and may not win a prize either. Personal delight or personal solace in an idea is different too. Are we making a point, sending a message; or merely making something pretty, or interesting?