Taking My Own Advice

A journal spread on the theme of encouragement. I'm sure I'm not the only one who looks at photos of themselves as a child and wonders whatever happened to that carefree, all-singing, all-dancing creature. Sometimes we need to remind ourselves of what we're about.

Another Red House

I used to dream about living in a red house when I was a little girl. Sometimes it was in the forest and sometimes it was on the seashore but wherever it was there was always a feeling of magic about it and adventures would surely follow.
 

Spring Cleaning

Well alright, it's a little early for Spring, but I thought a bit of redecorating and remodelling was in order so I spruced up the blog a bit. Haven't quite finished yet but I hope you approve - feedback is most welcome!

One of the main reasons for doing it was that I wanted to be able to add in some larger images and so needed to stretch the page a bit. So, now we are (hopefully) in wide-o-vsion!

RIP, Tony

When I was a child there was this curious art programme on TV called Vision On. Curious because it was ostensibly aimed at deaf children, the co-presenter being a woman who signed and interpreted, and back in the early sixties this was totally groundbreaking. I have no idea how many deaf children actually watched it but I, and a lot of my hearing friends, certainly did.

The other presenter, a man called Tony Hart, was the reason we watched. He was the artist and it was he who inspired us to go out and look, really look, at out surroundings, then come back and make art for ourselves. He would work quickly with all sorts of different media and materials, without any flash or fuss, and transform paper, objects, everday things into wonderful little (and sometimes not so little) bits of art, all the while encouraging us to have a go ourselves.

He went on to do several other series after Vision On and I have fond memories of watching these with my own daughter, now a very talented artist herself. All in all he brought the joy of creating to British children for nearly fifty years on TV and provided the template for modern shows like Art Attack. I am sad that he's gone, but so glad that he was there as I started on my creative path.

Papery Goodness

I don't think I've shared this with you before but when I was a very small child I used to eat paper. Printed paper was the tastiest as I recall, and I remember being told off on numerous occasions when my mother would find me behind the sofa nibbling on pieces of newsprint and even, now and again, strips torn from my storybooks.

Thankfully I outgrew this habit but I still love paper, printed or otherwise. These days I prefer to paint on it or make books and tags from it. It still provides the same sense of satisfaction as having a mouth full of wood pulp although I think it's probably better for me.

This fine stag in my shop here