
He just wanted a story, instead he got a sloppy typed and scribbled riff with a silly photo months later… You get what ya get :)
In 2005, i wandered Europa (Netherlands, Belgium, France, Spain, Portugal) by train, car and tram. Along the way, i wrote an extensive cycle of poetry, and completed a solid dozen or so paintings (acrylic, watercolour and charcoal) – some of which you may have seen along the way. I also started a load of other pieces which haven’t had a day in the easel yet — mostly because i like to let art ferment but also because i can never decide which medium to use to “finish” these.
Acrylics were more exciting in the white hot moment of creating en plein, watercolour teases my rather clumsy and aggressive touch and i am tempted to use simple black ink and make something colour-able by kids and adults. Not sure how to go about this as its not a technique i am polished at (yet) but these do need a life beyond a shoebox.
Maybe you kind folks and artists can offer a word of advice or idea? Regardless, they are nowhere near and as such, lonely and sad. So, here are rough drafts in ragged spontaneity and various forms and mediums. This is Vol. 3 of a few (last one i think), pardon repeats and redundancies.
bonus: another version of Fishing Boats near cliffs in Salema, Portugal. copied and coloured Continue reading Europa (unfinished) / sketches and remixes – vol. 3
On a 2005 ramble through a few western European countries (Netherlands, Belgium, France, Spain, Portugal), i carried a satchel of art supplies and painted / sketched along the way. Mostly on 11″x17″ canvas sheet and watercolour paper.
In most cases, i “finished” the pieces in one sitting using acrylics or sometimes watercolour pencils or pastels (these are catalogued, sold/gifted and posted elsewhere).
Anyhow, i have a several which never quite got finished and now sit in a folio in a storage locker elsewhere. I snapped photos and have considered how to finish – even soliciting advice which ranged from “they are finished” to “consider gouache” or “make a colouring book” which i did for my nieces and nephews.
Regardless, they are nowhere near and as such, lonely and sad. So, here are rough drafts in ragged spontaneity and various forms and mediums.
This is Vol. 2 of a few (maybe), pardon repeats and redundancies.
The decoration of the house is surprising, extraordinary. Perhaps the most exact adjective would be: never-before-seen. I do not believe that there is anything like it, in this country or in any other…. Dalí’s house is completely unexpected…. It contains nothing more than memories, obsessions. The fixed ideas of its owners. There is nothing traditional, nor inherited, nor repeated, nor copied here. All is indecipherable personal mythology…. There are art works (by the painter), Russian things (of Mrs. Gala), stuffed animals, staircases of geological walls going up and down, books (strange for such people), the commonplace and the refined, etc.
On Lynn Valley’s Varley trail, Uncle Weed discourses on fascist sponsors and greedy PR hacks reacting to young Mr. Phelps’ situation, plus talk of value of art vs. artist and listener email about parenting advice, blind shopping cart incidents, and a situation with a Briton arrested and incarcerated in Japan plus a spiel on Group of Seven artist Frederick Varley.
Jump in the water for Riverside Tokes for Phelps on the Varley Trail – Choogle On #78 (.mp3, 30:14, 28MB) Continue reading Riverside Tokes for Phelps on the Varley Trail – Choogle On! #78