Sometimes I paint something that no matter how hard I rack my brain, I can’t think of a title. I know you can go with the title “Untitled” but I’d rather not.
A good friend of mine, from the northern end of Tasmania, asked me if I could paint an ice skating emu so that she could get a print of the painting to give to her daughter, who LOVES ice skating. She regularly travels to Hobart for that very purpose – to ice skate.
Thinking of a title turned out to be more difficult than drawing and painting the picture. Has anyone else had this problem?? Some of the titles I came up with were:
Going for a Spin
Unhappy with all of the above, I decided it was time to elicit some help from my Facebook friends. Ideas were proposed and I narrowed it down to “Emu Icecapades”. I think this is an awesome title for the painting.
Thank you friends for helping me name this painting!
I teach academic writing, normally in a classroom, face-to-face with students, but now, due to the Coronavirus Pandemic, I’m trying to do it via online, while developing content for the online platform. There’s a lot of sitting involved with the marking of assignments, phoning students, online development and delivery. Then for a break, I sit and paint.
Sometimes you just have to get out of the house and away from sitting, sitting, sitting. So, that’s what I did. I thought I might be able to squeeze a sketch in before it got dark. So, at around 4:30ish pm, I sketched this house while “sitting” in the car. (I went for a walk this morning to help combat the too-much-sitting problem). It’s in the Sandy Bay area, around the University of Tasmania. I forgot to take note of the street but I think it is Duke Street??
I used my usual approach to sketch this house. I firstly used a coloured water colour pencil, then ink and then painted it at home. I don’t usually do cars so I left them unfinished. I was noticing in the photo that there are a lot of overhead wires, I wonder if it would add interest or detract from the drawing?? What do you think??
I hope that you get a chance to get out and enjoy some nature.
After Friday’s inspirational walk in Lenah Valley, besotted by hedges, I wanted to re-visit a well-known hedge in my neighbourhood.
I got up early on Saturday morning and set out with my sketching gear. It was a balmy 4 degrees when I left the house and as I was making my way down to this house, I spotted a familiar friend, the Bridgewater Jerry.
During the winter, the Bridgewater Jerry occurs, on average, once or twice a week. Tasmanians like to think it is unique but in reality a lot of places around the world experience similar fogs, it is just that we have named ours. It is believed the term “jerry’’ came from London where it was thieves’ slang for mist or fog and the term was transported to Tasmania with the convicts.
This weekend’s fog had fuzzy edges but sometimes the edges are so sharp and crisp, giving it such an amazing 3-D appearance of a ribbon curving and winding its way in front of kunyani. It looks so incredible that I forget to take a photo of it each time!
At night, in the cooler months, cold air drains down the mountains and collects in the Derwent Valley. Fog will form if this air is moist and cool enough. Then Bridgewater Jerry drains out of the valley in the mornings. The fog mainly affects the Derwent, northern and western suburbs of Hobart, but occasionally it reaches the Eastern Shore. I have seen it once travel all the way across the river to Tranmere.
Some of the hedges I saw reminded me of the Crocodile Dundee knife scene, “You call that a hedge? This is a hedge!”
There is a house along the Esplanade and Derwent River in Bellerive that is referred to the “wave-hedge house’.
My fingers were numb so I sketched it as fast as I could and painted it when I got home.
I wanted to exaggerate the colour of the hedge, almost give it a bit of an abstract look and make the hedge the dominant feature of the painting. I wish I had drawn it from a more side on angle… another time.
Two days ago, my friend and I went for a walk in Lenah Valley, a suburb in Hobart, Tasmania. The sky was a brilliant cobalt blue, the sun was sparkling, the greens were singing and as we walked by houses, they were beckoning “sketch me!”, “sketch me!” but we were going for a coffee and a walk, so we tried to ignore them.
We came across this round-about, which started as a wool-bombing spot and has remained as a community sculptural/art-communication spot. The decorations and little driver is regularly changed.
And then we came across this house. There was something about this scene that made us pull out our sketch books. The angle, the leaning mailbox, the sheep and the juxtaposition of the tall tree behind the house.
I ran out of room to really show how small the house looked in front of the huge tree behind it.
Then we continued our walk and we were awe-struck by hedges. They seemed alive, moving, writhing green waves. They were entrancing.
There are so many gorgeous suburbs in Hobart with glorious houses to sketch. I hope that if you haven’t visited Hobart, that one day you will be able to.
Stay safe and take care.
Thanks for visiting and sharing the unfurling artist’s journaling and journeying.
I had an appointment in Collinsvale, Tasmania. I thought it would take about an hour to get there, but it only took 27 minutes! Collinsvale feels like a whole different world, like you’re in the wilderness, but it’s so close to the city (closer than I remembered!).
The beauty about being an urban sketcher is that if you’re early, or if the person you’re meeting is late, you always have something productive to do with your time. I parked in front of this house, which is located on the main street, just after the primary school, and sketched it.
I approached sketching it in my usual manner by firstly drawing the big shapes with a water colour pencil, then inking it with a Fude ink pen and then adding the washes. Liz Steel has often said that drawing too much roof is a common error, one that I frustratingly find myself repeatedly doing. I have to try to keep this in the forefront of my mind. I think if you can nail the roof, then the rest of the structure more accurately reflects the real life building’s perspectives and sizes of the different sections. What is your urban sketching Achilles’ Heel?
I really couldn’t see what was happening with the front door. I think it had stained glass but I was too far away to be able to see.
It was lovely to re-visit Collinsvale. I hope that one day you are able to take the small detour from Hobart and visit this quaint suburb.
A walk around the neighbourhood, with the specific goal of photographing different coloured doors, delivered a surprising revelation. It is true that there are more conservatively coloured doors in my neighbourhood, predominantly cream or wood colour, but I was surprised at how many people have stepped out of the conservative door mind-frame and have dared to be a bit risqué.
I spotted yellow, dark grey, grey, cream and burgandy, lime green, red, orange-red and more coloured doors.
My door is a cream colour and I’ve always wanted a red door. Apparently in early America, red doors were a sign of welcome to passing horses and buggy travellers, and a sign of a safe house on the Underground Railroad. Also, it is said that vibrant red doors reflect vibrancy, liveliness and excitement inside the house.
The quarantine measures have spurred me into a clean-up and re-organising mode, like many people have been using this time to do long awaited jobs around the house, and while the momentum was still present…. Ta-da! I now have a red door!
Do you have a different coloured door? I’d love it if you would email me a photo of it (firstname.lastname@example.org) and I will add it to this blog post. It can be a living and breathing door-photo collecting vessel!
A mass teddy bear hunt is under way around the world to help distract the millions of children locked down because of the coronavirus pandemic. Stuffed toys are being placed in windows to give children a fun and safe activity while walking around neighbourhoods with their parents/carers.
Here’s my contribution to the movement…
The grey, green and cream teddy bears are ones that I made before I knew I liked to paint. The three other bears are from Canada. The mouse I fell in love with in my travels on the mainland of Australia. The moose is from Sweden. My son worked three years in Ethiopia and gave me the handmade knitted elephant from Ethiopia. I also added a painting I did of my handmade Christmas teddy bear.
Another act prompted by the Coronavirus Pandemic is that for the month of April, I’ve removed all shipping costs for website orders made in Australia. I have different sized quality prints, some original paintings, tote bags, zipper pouches and greeting cards available at http://www.pjpaintings.com.
I hope my paintings and the window scene brings a smile to many faces.
Normally today I would be running my Pj Paintings stall at Salamanca Market but due to the Coronavirus Pandemic, like most of the world, it has closed down. The Hobart City Council launched a Salamanca Market online shop, attached to their website, to try to help stallholders with their income losses: https://salamancamarketstore.com.au/. It looks great! I have a few items on view in the new Salamanca Market Store and all my images at http://www.pjpaintings.com
Instead of my usual Saturday activity, I got my sketching stool out and plonked it down in the kitchen…
I have a collection of teas and teapots that sit on my counter. Today, I noticed how colourful the current collection looks, so I drew it up, straight in with ink, quickly and trying to not worry about accuracy, and then added paint.
Thanks for stopping by and take care during this pandemic.