Liquid Love

When I'm lonely I like to write poetry. And work, generally. This happens often. The productivity gives me a sense of achievement, and one of the great benefits of being alone is having time to do things. Time that vanishes when being social. Time that is so very precious, as precious as good health - the two most precious qualities of life, appreciated by so few people. Here is a poem I wrote tonight. I decided to make the structure approximately palindromic.

Liquid Love

In this liquid velvet dark
can I see a spark of love?

Can I sup some yellow warmness,
gulp that honey, sense that burning on my cold clay skin?

Can I prick my finger on a tiny blade of love
if I stroke this icy air?

Is there any thing there?

Yes, it is here.

Warm and sweetly boiling clear,
dancing like a silver crystal flame of love.

A fresh mint beauty churning deep within.
A flowing river
kissed from every distant memory mountain.

In this liquid velvet dark
my love cascades in flowing fountain.

Male and Female Art

Is there a difference between male and female art; art made by male artists and female artists? I think there is. There are certainly some types of art that seem to be fixed more firmly in one gender or the other, with more "serious" oil paintings by men and more textile art by women for example. I wondered why.

I thought about nature and how in a animals the female can display something pretty to attract a male (of course, this happens in humans!) and the males have to somehow compete or prove to the female their worthiness (from a hoverfly's display of skill, to charging musk oxen). In art men can be keen to push the idea behind the work and prove their skill and intelligence in some way, and women seem to reluctant to even consider such rudeness, instead inviting others to judge and examine their creation. I've spoken to many female artists who just don't have an answer when asked "What is it about?" and when there is an answer it tends to be an examination of some aspect of society or technique, rather than a philosophical statement. To state something like that certainly seems to be a male trait. Thus spoke Zarathustra! Maybe that's why women make better writers ("show don't tell" is so important in writing because you must engage with the reader, interact, while occupying only one side of a conversation).

Of course, no person is wholly male or wholly female, I think, so there is great variation and always exceptions, but, if such differences exist I think it's important to consider and understand them, especially for those who must judge or critique art. Such a belief can suddenly add a meaning to art that would otherwise appear "meaningless". Next time I think "What does it mean?!" I might consider that it's the existence and creation of the art that conveys the meaning, not any message.

Now, is it ironic that this blog post is a statement of my idea?

I hope not tee hee.

The Cat With Human Eyes

My blog posts are haphazard recently. I must find the ideal way for each type of online media! The days seem to be flying past and this feels more and more like a memory problem... but how can that be tested with something as subjective as "feeling" like the days are flying past. Hmm...

Anyway, I thought I'd post the words to a silly song I wrote today, but one that is, at least, the first in over a year so that's something to be celebrated.

The Cat With Human Eyes

Look at my paws!
Look at my tail!
You won't see a surprise.
Then look at my face for what's out of place.
I'm the cat with human eyes.

Look at my smile!
My broken ears!
Look at my tears so wise!
Then look at my mind and the soul behind.
I'm the cat with human eyes.

Look at my hair,
the way I care
and love the things I do.
Then look at the way that I watch the day
and the way that I look at you.

Observation and Truth: A Philosophical Entropy

I've been reading and re-reading a lot of philosophy recently via the excellent medium of Modern Philosophy by Roger Scruton.

A large lump of philosophy is concerned with two aspects of truth; the difference between what we observe as being true and what is "really" true, out there, beyond our thoughts and senses.

This gap runs through all aspects philosophy. How do we know that a scientific theory is true for example? Only by application to the world. Application to one person's senses might not indicate truth, a theory that polar bears are blue might be true to a mad explorer who thinks polar bears are blue but that doesn't mean it's a valid scientific theory... does it?

Is there a difference between what is reasoned or calculated and what is observed? Reason or calculation needs data to work on and that comes from observation, or a previous calculation. Ultimately all reason or calculation must stem from a previous observation. The information from observation might be manipulated, or it might be lost or distorted, but the resulting reason or calculation can never create something "more true" that the observation. All calculation takes inputs, malforms them and produces an output, and here the input is that which is observed (or the result of something else which was ultimately observed).

This is a crucial point because it implies that if there is a "reality" beyond what we cab observe then it cannot ever be grasped, even theoretically, even by guesswork or insight. Nothing can be more true than observation, only as true or less true.

It may sound like an implication that only our personal view of the world is true. This is a lonely view, like that of Descartes. He is sadly no longer thinking, but when he was, he was it. Could truth have a social aspect?

This is a communication problem. Observation communicates data to us, it is manipulated and produces ideas, calculations, reasons etc. The data can be degraded in quality or lost but never made more pure. The original observation is as good as it will ever get. Information can also come from prior ideas, calculations etc. but when taking data again, some information may be lost or degraded.

Now, ideas or observations can also come from other people and these may be more true than your personal observation. Remember the mad explorer? One thousand other people may attest that polar bears are white rather than blue, if they observe them as white. If polar bears are truly white then then best that an observation can get is that people see them as white. Errors can creep in; someone with bad eyes might see them as pink, or yellow, or even blue. A distant memory or madness might degrade the information too, someone who originally thought one white might change his mind later. All of this shows that any initial truth can be lost but never gained.

What then if a person who saw the bear as yellow, later by chance recalled it as white? By chance they perhaps reached a truth, but their recollection of whiteness is no more valid than if they had recalled it as any colour because the change happened by chance. What if they saw more polar bears and later concluded that they were white after all, or if more people convinced them of the bear's whiteness? Then a truth had been reached, but it would only be as true as the truth of their other observations or the truth of the other people's observations, it would never be more true than an observed truth. Nothing closer to truth beyond a personal observation would have been created.

As data can be lost at observation and whenever it is communicated or used then the total pool of observations by all people who can communicate with each other defines the best truth that there can ever be. Any truth beyond what can be observed will remain forever out of reach. Any scientific theory that proposes to apply to the "real world" will apply only to the collective observations of those who observe and nothing beyond that.

The Minotaur

I've been developing an awful lot of picture ideas recently for a competition with the theme of labyrinth. All are based on the Minoan Labyrinth and the myth of the Minotaur. It was a struggle and it took many ideas because I found one that I was happy with on a visual, intellectual, emotional and perhaps more important that all practical level. I thought I'd share a few...

Peace, after the Minotaur. A simple abstracto-surreal (I've just invented that term!) idea. Rejected because it was too simple, yet I still rather like it.

Ariadne, a woman made from a maze. Difficult to stage... it would certainly need a model.

Theseus fighting the Minotaur. Difficult to stage although not impossible. Perhaps difficult to convey the sweeping lines and vaporous form in a full painting.

A complex painting about overcoming the emotions, which was my interpretation of the Minotaur myth. This was appealing in its complexity and intellectual and psychological gravitas, although it is difficult to stage. The figure is holding a hand over a statue of Theseus fighting the Minotaur, a statue built from maze. Frighteningly complex and with a wow factor, but in the the end I judged this too complicated to both stage and comprehend for too many ordinary art viewers.

The Minotaur. If anything this shows a loss of control. I liked this picture but its relationship to the myth was clear only really when seeing other images in the series, and it was rather too sad.

Theseus fighting the Minotaur. One of the first ideas. This seemed too similar to other paintings of mine so I turned it down for that reason.

The Minotaur. More different now, a more abstracted idea about fear of "the inner beast" and sexuality. The female figure at the front is afraid (her expression not apparent from this sketch!) This reminded me of a crucifixion and then Bacon's Three Figures painting, then remarkably so! I like this idea for its originality, simplicity and power and might well paint it. It demands a large canvas though, and no opportunity to show it... so why bother!? I don't think it would win a competition, even though it may deserve to. My judgement of judges and "popular public" taste tells me that much.

Daedalus Supervising the Construction of the Labyrinth. A painting about creative power, this is a complex idea related to earlier paintings of mine (specifically Two Parents Looking at a Very Isolated Child). Here the tiny Daedalus figure is standing on a tower, watching the labyrinth being built by slaves in a cave under the towering castle (shaped like a bull's head). A complex idea which I have decided to paint, but I think too complex for the competition.

The deadline is the end of February and it will take all of that time for me to meet it. Onward!

Octopus Frame Completed

It's a strange time, to finish things. Strange and even dangerous. I've normally got so many things in progress at once that this is one of the first times in years that I've completed my paintings, music and other things all at the same time! Now, what... ah yes. Part two of the Octopus Frame...

After the brown paint came gold, and red. The result was distinctly Roman. Here it is...

The next step was the curtain, which In the end I attached using split rings. This worked, and the iron bar fitted just perfectly, a stroke of luck considering I bent it by guessing, clamping it into a vice and pulling at about the right place. Some ordered and testable way of calculating the place to bend is needed for the future, although I don't expect I'll be bending many bars in future. Perhaps my curtain experiment phase is over?

Anyway, the step after that involved painting the "black hole" panel for the arched hole at the top. This wasn't very spectacular looking and I wish I'd have thought about this more before starting work. Generally, a tight deadline is best but sometimes things need to be done with time and care.

After that the frame was finished, and here it is...

The painting is called An Octopus Finally Killing A Lighthouse Which Is Assumpted Into An Angel. Here is a close up of the painting...

I now offer limited edition prints and open edition photographic reproductions of all of my paintings, as well as the original. The problem with this one is that many venues demand frames that have no delicate parts or sharp bits that might damage other more delicate artworks. Unfortunately that might rule out this being shown anywhere except local venues (but at least Vermeer lived in obscurity because he was similarly confined to his local area so I can take comfort from that good company.)

I hope you like the painting. All details as ever on www.marksheeky.com.

And now...

Octopus Frame - Part 1

The most complex of my end-of-year framing projects was for "An Octopus Finally Killing A Lighthouse Which Is Assumpted Into An Angel".

First I drew out a rough plan...

I wanted to add a curtain, and my first thought for this was to add a metal rod like a towel rail, with rings on that looped through eyelets in the fabric. There were tentacles too.

I began with an L shaped bit of wood, cut to fit the wood panel the painting was on (the painting was already finished by this stage). Then stuck more wood on the outside to make it thicker and cut an arch for the top using a jigsaw from some MDF, that will be the hollow for the "black hole" painting.

The object was now bare wood. I then filled the deep holes with something called Sculptamold. That's a mix of paper and plaster, so it sets quickly and rock hard but is less liquid than plaster and can be sculpted with. After that I poured liquid plaster over the whole frame and coated that with casting resin to make it stronger (plaster is quite brittle and rather inclined to smash if dropped). I then stuck some shells on using epoxy clay, an ideal glue for this purpose because it's really strong and good at filling big gaps.

I had a choice for the tentacles... plaster again? Or clay of some sort? Or plastic or polymer clay or epoxy clay? All had pros and cons. In the end I chose papier mache because it wouldn't be too heavy, could be moulded and was strong enough to take knocks without smashing into bits.

I used a product called Art Mache, which is fine paper dust which can be made into a clay-sort of paste and moulded by hand. It worked rather well. Here it is after the tentacles have been applied...

You can see the wood frame beneath, and the shells. The plain plaster looks pink here because the casting resin colours it. The black rings are rubber o-rings. I thought these would work as suckers for the tentacles! I didn't expect that they would stay on, so I pulled them off, still leaving a nice indentation.

The Art Mache took days to dry, and in the end I propped the frame up in front of the fire all day. This did the job (although even then they were only just dry).

Here it is dry and seen from above...

Then it was time to colour it. I wanted to echo the colours in the painting but not make them so bright that the frame would be a distraction. I wanted a dark frame then, and toyed with the idea of black and gold a lot. I painted some tests on plaster and the rich brown with gold highlights looked wonderful so I decided on that.

Here it is all brown, but with a deep red (mars violet) for the tentacles and arch at the top.

You might see the yellow dots, those are the holes for the curtain bar...

That's about half way. I'll post the second half plus photos of the finished frame in the next post.

Frame Adventures Part 2

Lots of progress made. After a disaster with one frame, it was remade and is now ready. Here's a snapshot of frames done:

A charred frame made by setting fire to the wood. This looked and smelled impressive but then end result is such a beautiful and even silvery graphite black that it hardly looked burned at all!

A sleek black frame for Monument To Love, a ribbed textured gold frame for the Grayson Perry painting, a distressed rotten wood effect frame for A Sad Memory, a box for Monkey At Sunset (that one will extend the edges in each direction like a noughts-and-crosses board).

Then the three sculptural frames...

1. "Narcissist" frame. Wood ready with arch cut. An semi-circular stained glass window will fit in the arch. I'll have to work out how to do it but I will use glass paints on a semi-circle of glass. I'll sculpt some daffodils for this too.

2. The "Octopus" frame. Wood frame ready, with arch. This was coated in diluted P.V.A., ready for plastering, then recesses filled with Sculptamold (see later). A crimson velour curtain for this has been purchased and a new painting panel cut for the arch.

3. The Bully frame. Aha! Here is the main subject of this blog...

The wooden pieces were cut and glued on, then the edges were drilled and screwed on and the wooden bits also screwed. Structural strength is important when dealing with heavy plaster. At the very least, the wood parts of the frame should survive being hung on a wall.

Here it is at that stage, with a tiny bit of white stuff on top...

After that the plastering. The plan was to pour plaster on and model in when wet. I've done this before, but the ridges on the frame, the sharp edges, tend to look sharp and stick out. Lots of plaster and lots of applications are needed and it takes time and is very messy. So my plan was to fill in the big bits first. I had two options: Sculptamold which is a papier maché type material or acrylic molding paste. I chose Sculptamold and slapped some on.

It's very like cottage cheese but easy to work with, sticky but not excessively so on your hands and tools, and you can mix and slap it on. The texture is lumpy like hard porridge oats, but for a rock effect that's good. I liked it so much that I decided to continue and built up all of the frame in it.

It has the advantage of being less heavy than plaster too.

Once dry I'll see how it sands. I'd like to make the rocks a tad more angular.

With luck I can finish all of the frames in a few days. It's a big task though. I'm promoting Art Up Close by painting on Nantwich square all day on Friday and I'll have an exhibition in Adam Capper's Studio there on Saturday. A new exciting café called Café 159 opens on that day too and it will have some of my paintings on show. On Thursday I'm taking down my Shrewsbury exhibition which has sold enough to be profitable which is rare and beautiful.

I've been listening to Brahms' symphonies all week and conclude that only the first is great because it's about the insecurity of trying to better Beethoven, as well as being a deliberate homage. The other symphonies sound like Beethoven and are musical, often having quite beautiful melodies, but have little meaning or feeling and I get the impression that he aimed for tunes first rather than trying to express feelings first, and ran to structure to avoid the innovation which he lacked the imagination and brilliance to achieve. I ache to begin writing The Death Symphony.