Richmond (after the rain)

I painted this with the exhileration of a swift bike ride through a damp Richmond deer park still fresh in my mind.

Malmo, Sunset, Oresund Bridge and Turning Torso

Pete and I are delighted to be moving so close to the sea, and to an area that's thriving in design. I'm determined not to end up like Wallander's dad and just paint seascapes when we are there (I think he probably should have moved his chair around more often...).

The Bears in Our Garden

By popular request, a few photos of those we will leave behind in our move to Sweden...

Babs by Babs

This is my first attempt at self-portrait: it's actually quite hard to capture expression, when looking into one's own eyes.

The strong blue sky, yellow field and pine trees in the background were no doubt inspired subconsciously by our imminent move to Sweden, although we will be located by the coast....

My Philosophy: I keep a green bough...

I was very inspired quite recently when I came across the saying "I keep a green bough in my heart and a singing bird comes to me".

The painting is mixed media (golden acrylics, coloured inks and pastels), and with it I wanted to capture the shimmer and snippets of Spring in full flush.

It felt like the perfect counterpart to a birthday card my graphic designer uncle had once made for me many years ago, which contained the phrase "Wer die Sonne im Herzen traegt, haelt das Leben in der Hand". This translates into "carry sunshine in your heart, hold life in your hand".

Spring has come!

When I was working on getting full mobility into my ankle again, and trying out new directions professionally, I found the saying "Spring will come, blossom tree" very upbeat and encouraging.

I celebrated progress on diverse fronts by dabbling with palette knives and thick oil paints for this painting, which conjured up for me the life-affirming complimentary sentiment of "Spring has come".

The Zen of Pete

I recently attempted my first full-blown, serious portrait, when Pete was recovering from a minor knee operation, so was pretty much a captive subject.

The portrait took a month to complete: much of it spent by me walking around it, hum-ing and ha-ing over how much detail, which colour combinations, and how to convey perspectives. I used oil paints with brushes and palette knives.

To my delight, the portrait made it through to the second round of BP 2009 National Portrait Competition.

The Mystery of Growth - Sunflowers in Heavy Rains

I put together this collage to cheer myself up whilst waiting impatiently for my broken ankle to heal in Spring 2008. The glass beads caught the light in our stairwell even on the gloomiest of days.

Ich habe Schwein

I put together this collage in 2006, after my German aunt had met my partner Pete for the first time and took a shine to him. She kept exclaiming enthusiastically to me, "Du hast Schwein", which translated means you're really lucky, and literally means you have a pig. Hence, "ich habe Schwein" or I have a pig...

Speak Out!

This experiment in gouache was directly inspired by a book on Hundertwasser, and the centrality of clear, undiluted expression.

Le Reveil

I wrote the poem in the painting, which I first started working in Brussels (2000), and then painted the words on canvas, when I went out there for the second time (2005).

It's very much linked to Spring and the promise of good things to come through moving somewhere new.

The Rainy Lakes

My memories of growing up in the English Lake District always feature rain very heavily, but also a freshness and underlying cheeriness in the cold air.

I was experimenting with pointillism here, and remembering the aboriginal art I encountered on my travels down under.

Out of the Woods and Smelling Roses

This collage was inspired by playing around with new paint brushes and different paint strokes, as well as a phrase which resonated with me, whilst on my travels, about not forgetting to smell the roses en route i.e. just enjoy the journey.

The Sea, The Sea, The Glorious Sea

I painted this one evening at art class, using palette knives for the first time, and thoroughly enjoying the process without knowing how it would end up.

Both Pete and I adore the sea - in all its guises.

Autumn Bear and Brussels Sprouts

Last autumn (2008), the colours and light in the garden seemed particularly translucent and rosy.

I initially painted in a leisurely frame of mind, but had to hurry to catch the last shimmers of golden light towards the end of the third week.

Pete's virgin attempt at Brussels Sprouts - giant leaves and the tinest of buds - are now immortalised.

Bear Country - West Coast Trail

On a fairly recent holiday, Pete and I spent time on Vancouver Island, Canada, completing the gruelling West Coast Trail, and also bear watching on board a zodiac boat.

The collage was to capture the downpour and the astounding proximity we experienced to a wild, shaggy-furred black bear.

My Joyful Friend

I painted this picture of "My Joyful Friend" quite a while ago (2001), using acrylics and a fond memory of travelling around the Greek Cycladic Islands with my lovely partner, Pete.

It amazes me how much quite different people enjoy this image: they usually guess whom I have in mind, and that I wasn't wearing glasses when Pete leapt exhilerated out of the sea towards me.

Inspiration from "The Artist's Way"

Julia Cameron's "The Artist's Way" encourages aspiring creatives to tackle their inhibitions and simply delve in and enjoy, wherever their inner muse takes them over a 3 month self-study period.

As I busily cleared out old clutter with a heavy plaster cast in tow, I was particularly struck by her words: "Art opens the closets and airs the cellars. It brings healing."

This inspired me to play around with the three primary colours and various sparkly, coloured "gemstones", which catch the light beautifully at times.

Background

I broke my ankle, hiking in Patagonia shortly before Easter 2008. It happened very close to the end of nine months travelling around the world, whilst on self-elected sabbatical.

So, with little reason or possibility of deflecting, I once more started my self-study art course, thinking all the while that my many photos and travel experiences would inspire me to somehow create copiously.

Finding, though instead, the awakening of Spring in my garden, and a slow, but increasingly noticeable mobility on my part, meant I hobbled my way through my home, reviewing my aspirations and reviving my passions more widely for art.

Motivation

Art is always a delight.

My uncle, Helmut, a graphic designer, forever instilled that in me by his obvious enjoyment of art: illustrating encyclopaedic books; designing birthday cards; and, admiring whatever I showed him, thereby nurturing an enduring slow-burn to paint for pleasure.

For me, a thing of joy has its own timeless beauty. I firmly believe whatever gives pleasure in creating, emits endless enjoyment in beholding.

It simply transcends.