Frame Update

Well the painting is drying. I thought I'd post an update of the frame work. We left our intrepid hero half naked and covered with shards of epoxy clay. I added some crosses (crudely hacked from some rolled out bits - I used a silicone rolling pin so that the clay wouldn't stick but actually it did stick so I waited an hour then rolled it again and it was fine). Then I painted the whole thing in a thin coat of chocolate brown. Here it is...

And here is a closeup of the scene in the arch. Are these figures mourners or are they reverent monks? The answer is both at once, depending on how you feel at the time.

The next step is decoration. I used Golden Fluid Acrylics for that brown. I like these a lot, and they can be watered down a lot too, handling loads better than the thick acrylics that come in tubes. I've not got many colours (they cost about £20 a bottle!) but I don't need that many to decorate frames. I still want them all though. Naturally.

Here are some plaster casts I've made to experiment with. More are on the go. I've learned that watery grey is good for simulating "dust" but I've not perfected anything yet. I've got three iridescent colours; bronze (a good opaque goldy colour, perhaps best used on it's own), bright gold (very light yellow and transparent, this is very shiny and metallic and wonderful for highlights - my favourite but has to be carefully layered because it's not strong on it's own and looks very sickly and yellow) and silver (disappointing and useless so far - best mixed with blues or pinks to make a nacre effect, although pearlescent white might be better for that).

Here are my first results although it's hard to see what they are like on screen. Most have lots of layers.

The rich reddy golds (Venetian red? light red? terra rosa? something like that - Golden simply call it red oxide) probably look better in this photo (although actually the golds are so wonderful that in real life these all look loads better). The centre is plain brown and light gold. Rather delicate actually and very metallic, almost like cast iron. I'll keep these samples for future reference. I'm still not that happy with any one and will cast another six or more before deciding on a colour for my precious frame.

I'll post a picture of a new painting soon. The leaping tiger is nearly dry enough to scan! That one is being professionally framed by Bailey's near Nantwich. They do an excellent job and I like to have a mix of styles of frame. It's so important that each painting looks its absolute best.

Moulding for Dummies

I've been busy this month working on the God Being Killed painting that will feature an elaborate frame. I thought I'd share the process I used for making it. I've enjoyed working with a few new materials so far, and today I've been playing with silicone mould making material.

The first stages of the frame were quite straightforward. As with any frame I began with a wooden frame that fitted the painting. On top of that I added an arch, which I made by layering lots of sheets of MDF. to make a thick block of wood, then jigsawing the arch hole from it. Then I glued it to another piece of MDF to make the back.

When fitting it, it was essential that it remained flat and in the middle so I attached it in two stages. First I painted the top of the frame and the bottom of the arch with dilute PVA. The plan was to make it less absorbent and make a good hold for the next step, an idea I got from wall plastering. Then I glued the two halves together using acrylic mouldling paste, which is essentially acrylic plaster. I thought that acrylic would make a good glue and act like a filler too, making the imperfect join fit well by filling in any gaps. It worked as planned and a few hours later I found I could lift the frame without the heavy top falling off, which is important!

However I'd be foolish to rely on glue to hold something that heavy so I then drilled and screwed the top. It was important to glue first because If I'd have drilled and screwed first it might not have been straight.

Here it is at that stage...

Next, was an easy but messy step, to pour plaster all over it. After that, and trimming off the edges it looked like this...

That's pretty much how it is now. I've painted it with epoxy casting resin today, which will toughen it up a bit and help stick it to the frame (I covered the wood with PVA first to help the plaster stick, but every little helps). I'm not 100% sure about the epoxy being ideal, although it must surely toughen things up. In tests it seems to sink into the plaster and not toughen it too much, at least I've managed to smash it when trying! More tests are needed I think...

I want to add some moulded shapes of chess pieces and other bits so I got some silicone to make moulds from. It was really gloopy stuff. It's mixed with a catalyst with a simple 10:1 weight ratio so I used my trusty digital scale to measure a plastic cup full out and stirred it up with great difficulty! It pours slowly, but sets just like rubber. I wonder if I can make rubber stamps with it? It might repulse the ink. Maybe that's a good thing for a stamp?

I began with some chess pieces and set them half in plaster in plastic boxes. I topped these up with the silicon and the results were great. The only problem was removing the lot from the box! I also wasted quite a lot of the stuff, casting a big block of rubber for some quite small objects.

For a second bacth of objects I improved the process by using Lego walls to hold the silicone. That was much easier, and the stuff wasn't so fluid that it seeped out of the walls (unlike the watery epoxy, which would have I just know it!). Another advantage with Lego is that you can build the shape you want, saving waste and it's easier to dismantle.

I'll use epoxy clay to make my mouldings, because I want to bend them when setting them in place. The rippled frame would make it awkward to stick a solid flat object down with ease too.

For now I'll leave this for a few days. Tomorrow I'm painting the last stages of the tiger (if it's dry enough), off on Saturday to see the Shrewsbury College end of year art show, then some more end of year shows in Manchester on Sunday, back in time to paint the second layer on this god painting next week... if the last layer is dry enough. We have the light but this summer has been so cold that it feels forever autumn (now if this was a radio broadcast then it would be time for a song).

Ta ta for now.

The Mechanauts (and Other Stories)

Greetings blog humans! I've not blogged in a while, caught up with the more socially intense world of Facebook but yes it's now time to reblog.

News part one! My exhibition in Sevens in Macclesfield took place. The opening was scant and/or spartan but I sold a watercolour and a poetry book on that day, and two prints over the course of the exhibition. The biggest benefit was that I was forced to calculate the prices and appropriate print size for each painting. I did this by typing the width/height of every painting into a spreadsheet, and calculating the aspect ratio to eliminate the most unusual shapes. Then I tallied this with a list of standard print sizes (12x10, 16x12, 20x16 etc. etc.) and typing those, their cost and other factors (like a commission value) into a separate sheet. More to do on this, as it's a complicated formula.

News two! I've added a shopping cart system to my website. It's crude but wasn't too hard using $SESSION variables. This was created to make it easier to buy sound effects on my sound effects website IndieSFX, but should prove useful. My music is now available to buy that way, as are digital prints.

News three! Painting! Here is Triumph of the Mechanauts. This for a competition with a theme of a dystopian future. An alternative title is Two Victorian Time Travellers Discovering Technological Lovelessness in the Year 2791. It's about the death of emotion.

It's been a disappointing month regarding competitions and entry into exhibitions, however my faith in my abilities is stronger than ever, and my work and mindset is back to the good days of 2006, 2007, 2008 which were better years than 2010 and 2011. My ultrafaith in future artworks is undiminished. In 100 years time I'm sure that the most famous and renowned artist of this time will be me, and yet to be in this exact position of obscurity and freedom and the correct modicum of insanity and isolation is ideal for creativity to flourish. I have three other paintings underpainted and awaiting completion; a leaping tiger, a flagellation of Christ (which took about a week but I might throw away as I never really liked it) and a third painting which was to replace it called God Being Killed by Theists and Atheists. Both of those are on the theme of religious violence for the Religionis Violenta competition. How more violent could we get than the death of God?

The painting was inspired by a epic tragedy related to me by a stranger, one which caused him to deny the existence of God and then become fervently religious. I'm atheist myself, although I do not object to religion because I think it's good for society and exists for logical social scientific reasons, because a stable society demands it. I don't believe anyone really believes in God. The thought that there might actually be a giant invisible man controlling everything is obviously ridiculous. Moved by the story and urgently needing a new painting I idea I spent a day alone and later in darkness the idea appeared in one; God dying in the sky, as evil priests (and initially demons) faced monkeys (representing atheists) over a chess board. On the horizon was a small crucifix. In the sky circled many crucifixes, in panic and stabbing and swirling. The calm cross on the horizon gives a contrast to the rest of the painting and as a representation of Jesus makes the painting devoutly religious; amidst the confused monkeys and corruption of the earthly church there is Christ. Yet, a day later I realised that the crucifix was a gravestone, God was dead and religion was dead, so my unconscious had magically made a painting with simultaneous dual meanings, devout religion and devout atheism in one.

I will complete this painting this month. It would work best on an epic scale but I don't have the time or storage space for something like that.

There are lots of other things to tell, like One Moment In Time, a community art project for Jubilee Monday I'm doing, music news and other things but that must come later for it's time for a cup of tea.

Competitions

A busy few days, and weeks! A few Monday's ago I helped host a poetry night at the local community centre and our guest poet Jim Bennett was brilliant, not only as a poet (he was clearly way above us!) but as an inspiration and as entertainer. He even got us singing along to one of the poems! He was clearly a true artist, he wrote his first poem aged 8 and he's been a poet all his life, but despite his years of experience and many achievements he was really down to earth and still passionate about language and society.

The night was a busy rush for me. My singer friend Tor and his manager Honey came along so I met them in person for the first time. They came back here and listened to tune after tune while I bamboozled them with offers and begs to record more songs with me. They said yes.

That excitement aside I've been painting stalwartly for the most part. I've also entered and been turned down for the Stockport Open. I was commenting that competitions can boil down to the judges taste. Trying to second guess judges though can be a nightmare. I was disappointed last year when one of my best paintings, at least a good one, I thought, was turned down, so this year I entered paintings that were different but both of those were turned down too, and the judges were different anyway! That said though, the two I entered were perfectly fine. We can but try.

In other news I've been ordered to take down two paintings from my Crewe Hall exhibition on the grounds of nudity. This annoyed me somewhat. For a start it could easily cost me £50-£100 to hire a van to take them when the only reason for me to remove them is that they don't like them, and they've been there for a month and I at least supplied a price list with titles etc. months in advance. My works aren't like Lucien Freud's or Francis Bacon's, but Crewe Hall isn't an art gallery either. This happens in many venues with my work and now I must ensure that I check in advance. About 25% of my paintings are unshowable to the public, apparently. I expect this is entirely a matter of fashion and that if I were as famous as Lucien Freud, Crewe Hall would happily show them and not bat an eyelid.

These events have made me think.

My plan was to paint for competitions. Now I think I might as well paint for my own whims, the reasoning being that trying to please a judge is like a cat chasing its tail or that uncatchable fox being chased by the immortal hound. Stand still and you have more chance of the fox jumping into your proverbial arms. Yet, whims are limitless. Why paint every day for every month forever? Is that a question to ask every artist?

Well we'll all live until we get old and then die. We can do anything in between. Anything we want. The ultimate reason I enter competitions is as a goal, a point in time that motivates action, the fun and the challenge of the creation process against imaginary opponents. Mentally, the prize is filling in the entry form because that announces the end of the process, and victory.

On that note I've just entered this into the Threadneedle Prize. As a London competition, they should notice the reference to the B.P. Portrait Award last year.

Update

No bongs.

I've been painting for a few days. The tiger is drying in its first layer. Today I'm on day two of Triumph of the Mechanauts. Here's a sneak preview...

I'm painting better than ever and feeling right at home. The new work schedule is working much better; with 30 minute breaks instead of 20. Exercise and diet are so important for these long sessions. Of all breakfasts, porridge with dried fruit and soya milk must surely be the most healthy. I'm surer than ever that sugar accelerates ageing and at best causes ups and downs in both mood and activity. Coffee with caffeine is, I think, as good as exercise and some research I've read indicates it increases heart health and has similar mood enhancing effects as exercise. I must stay fit and young so that when success arrives I can be fit enough to enjoy it. Of course, by then I'll be addicted to my current lifestyle, whatever that is, but perhaps not. One thing I avoid is routine. It is routine that traps the brain into relaxation and laziness. One thing that struck me, an obvious fact, is that young people like new music and old people like the same old music they've always listened to. The music taste is reflecting brain physiology. Old music is old paths. New music is new paths. Limiting your taste in music, or in people, or in anything will degrade your brain. Limitation of tastes is a sign of decay, but exploring new tastes is a way to avoid it. Listening to new music, and trying new things, even and especially things you "dislike" will keep your brain young and flexible, just as moving in a new way keeps your joints flexible. Fighting likes, fighting comfort, fighting lazy established routine is the key to longevity. Bless the recalcitrant for they will inherit the Earth.

Must avoid obtuse rambles.

I've been tweeting on Twitter quite a lot recently. My account is @marksheeky if you're on there. It's good for some things. I'm sure Nietzsche would have liked it. I'm unsure of the best things to say as yet. Despite the public nature of each tweet it somehow feels more intimate than Facebook. The psychology of this is a mystery.

I'll continue painting all week.

I've got a few events lined up and I now think it's a good idea to have two live events each month. The next one is the poetry night on the 23rd. The singer Tor James Faulkner might come to that from Glasgow. I hope so. We've never met and it would be good to do more work with him. I'd like to record more songs, perhaps under a band name so that I can use a mix of performers without confusion over the credits.

Now I'll listen to some Radio 1.

Let It Be

This is my attempt at the monkification of a whip-bearing man for my Flagellation of Christ, one of the three paintings I'm working on. The other one had problems. The oil paint that I "traced" it with was partly washed away by the imprimatura. I must either wait longer next time (I will!) or rub more gently (I will! - although to rub harder gives better smoother results). This sad wearing away of my new friend, my first big painting of 2012 is an setback among many other recent triumphs, including the successful launch of my long exhibition at Crewe Hall. The mother of a talented your singer spoke to me. I'd like the singer to sing some of my songs but she's young yet and has many options before her and will need much guidance from her parents and wise friends.

But now time is ended!

Bong!

The clock has struck!

Bong!

The winter has melted!

Bong!

The sun is here!

Bong!

The time for worries is done. The time for preparation is over. Time has beaten us!

Bong!

The clock is racing and the moon is running. The sun is dead and the night is born!

Bong!

No time for more music videos even though some are needed!

Bong!

No time to sell on etsy for the first time!

Bong!

No time to post a painting to the Abbeywood Estate sale!

Bong!

No time to tell you about the charity auction in Bristol where my works are to star, with the support of Gillian Anderson, Stephen Fry and the Lord Mayor! No time to tell you about my first radio interview last Tuesday!

Bong!

Time is out and time it set to begin for now, yes, now is the time to draw back that great velvet curtain that leads to summer. Tomorrow I will enter my hermitude. I will shut off the universe, alone with my limnetic lover! It is time, dear friends, to paint.

Let the bells peel in joy!

Paint and Robots

I'm doing lots of things at the moment. I've decided to focus on competitions and events and I'm working on three paintings at the moment, a leaping tiger (theme "moving"), a flagellation of Christ (for a competition about religion) and a giant chromium man embracing a giant chromium skeleton (for a competition about the future). The last one is the largest and most complex, and probably the most visually impressive too. All of the shiny little bones were difficult to outline but I got there in the end, and the underdrawing looks good already. I'll be doing that on canvas for a change, "Top Gun" polyester, which doesn't require priming but does resist drawing/pencil marks so I'll be outlining in oil paint.

Next month I'll be attending two events; the launch of a new three-month exhibition at Crewe Hall. The opening night next Wednesday is free to attend and you are welcome to come along if you are nearby. Find full details on the Art Up Close Website. The second event is an open mic. poetry night, Poetry Blast, on the 23rd of April. I'll be reading something from 365 Universes there.

And later in the year there are plans for a Steampunk event. Actually more of a mini-festival, organised by Carol at The Cubby Hole. It's a bit hush-hush at the moment but several people are now working on art for it and I'm hoping to make a sculpture and a watercolour painting for it. Here's a look at the bits of steam-train robot I want to make.

I'm really just making it up as I go along, gluing this to that here and there. I'll plan more when needed. I'm painting a watercolour because there are lots of watercolour competitions these days, so I thought I'd paint something I could enter into one of those in future.

All of these events made me think of the comparison with art and sport. I wonder if professional artists could work like professional sports people? Being paid prize money that falls not just to a "top three" but down the ranks. Is that how sports competitions work? If so it might make for a good way of funding art, and would require a standardised set of rules of entry for competitions, so that prize money, fairly divided, had a more even spread. It might create a circuit of artists, like golfers or snooker players, that compete regularly in art events.

Finally I'll end with some mentions. I met with a photographer and printer last Wednesday morning called Terry Davies who has a professional attitude and creates good quality giclee prints. I may use his services in future. On the same day my art group had a watercolour tutorial from Paul Brotherton, a nice friendly teacher with a good knowledge of art techniques. That day was fraught as I was telephoned the day before to make me feel bad for not being able to attend the tutorial in the morning and then told that I was not permitted to go in the afternoon - we each need a space to work, but hardly "permission" (some of the attitudes at that club drive more than me mad)! In the end the afternoon was great, and my picture benefitted from splurging darkness and improvising as I went! I think it's fair to say that everyone learned something from Paul and it was nice to see people who had never touched watercolour have a go.

Painting vs. Writing

I'm concentrating more on writing now, my new fad. In art I'll focus only on paintings for competitions or specific exhibitions. Sadly, it means that many of my artistic ideas will not be painted, but I can do those later when I'm rich enough to rest and indulge in flights of artistic fancy.

Writing is like painting in many ways. The first draft is like the underpainting, but it's made linearly instead of all in one go, like a painting that starts in one corner and creeps towards to other. Some painters have a rough underpainting that marks out the blobs of light and shade, and writers like that would quickly write a first draft, then spend a lot of work on subsequent drafts, redrafting many times, like those painters who add lots of layers to model and refine. Some painters plan the whole picture first. Some just start, adjusting as they go. The same is true of writers, although it seems relatively rare for writers to plan the story in advance, many just writing and making parts up as they go.

I write like I paint, first with a rough plan that sets out what happens in each chapter. I do this largely unconsciously, exactly like my idea sketches for paintings, so that the mood can be instantly captured. Then I write the first draft, with lots of detail and largely like the final book, again like my detailed underpaintings. Then glazing, a next and (hopefully) final draft, which contains few new elements, adds colour, more unusual words that fit and enhance the story. As in an underpainting, the first draft contains a simpler vocabulary.

The two media are amazingly similar. One big difference though is expression of emotion. In a book the mood can change and sway with each chapter, but a painting really conveys one feeling. Paintings can contain many emotions, each part with a different mood, (Dali's The Great Masturbator was the first time I noticed this, the eroticism of the woman's face, the fear of the grasshopper on the big face, the anxiety of the ants) but paintings like that demand more attention, and have less instant visual impact, they are less accessible. Similarly though, a book works best when it as a whole has one mood. Nineteen Eighty Four has a feeling of oppression conflicting freedom throughout. Perhaps one overall mood, with subtle variations in different parts is the key to a good artwork in any medium. If I were to illustrate the story I'm writing it would demand and benefit most from one single painting for the whole story, I think.

In my story so far George has caused a stir and is about to try to escape from Heaven with his 1950's teenage rebel father, pursued by angelic guards. I'm writing the odd bit at night while spending the day planning paintings.