Inspire 52 - Week 8. Ink in the Tale

This week I have enjoyed a fair dosage of variety and creativity. In my ideal world there would be more artistic freedom in my average week (that is something I am still working on), but in any case it has been pretty inky, which is always a bonus. I have also had some breakthroughs with a collaborative project I am working on with Illustrator and Writer, Hayley Potter which is soooo exciting but also rather top secret at the moment. I'm working on lots of projects at the moment and preparing for flight, but feeling like a good sleep is in order...
So it's Friday evening, the week has just ended, it's 7.32pm and I have just arrived home. I'm getting revved up for a mammoth weekend of tasks and jobs, which will be pretty full on, so I figured I need to get my 'Inspire' done tonight. I got some new inks and a new nib this week so I have been trying to figure it all out ... needs a bit more work I think ... but I'm literally sitting here juxtaposed between a computer and a quill ...love it!

Before I go any further I must say that I am enjoying the fact that the days are getting noticeably longer. I feel like I can soon start emerging from the frozen spell of winter that has caught me in my tracks, rather like the frozen statues in Narnia, that's me, the one that is frozen in a walking motion stuck in their tracks trying to get somewhere. Hopefully the thawing will happen soon, (without the meltdown of course!) then I can get on my way.

This week ... my goodness where do I begin? .... This week, to be quite honest with you, I don't know where it has gone [consults diary] ... Blimy!! Anyway, the aim now is to do the inspire thing, so here we go ...

Hmm ... not sure about all of that ...

This week has been pretty project based, I have been to meetings, collaborated, given a talk and workshopped all around the subject of my art practice ... (so that is fab!) I am the coordinator for the Sting in the Tale Festival of stories and as well as illustrating their brochure last year, I was also commissioned to create promotional postcards in the lead up to this years festival. So these are the postcards below. Feel free to print them out and get your kids to colour them in, this is what they are intended for.

This year we are looking for a new illustrator and would like to commission a student, so as part of this search for the next artist, I was invited to give a talk and a workshop at the Arts University College Bournemouth in order to help students submissions for approaching the brief. I had a great day and really loved working with the students and my fellow collaborator, Hayley Potter, who is also a teacher on the illustration course....

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So here I am .. it's now 10.26 pm, I have a few traces of ink on my hands and a blog that I'm gonna call a day on ... my brain is tired and I can't get any words that make any sense to me... sorry this has not been very inspiring, I promise to do better next week. I hope you enjoy a good colouring in session!

Inspire 52 - Week 7. The Art Of Waiting

All the breaks you need in life wait within your imagination.  Imagination is the workshop of your mind, capable of turning mind energy into accomplishment and wealth. Napoleon Hill (1)

I've been waiting for inspiration to arrive all week and all of a sudden it has manifested itself in the act of 'waiting', so this is what has inspired me to create this week's 52.

This week being Valentines week, I thought perhaps I would do a piece on love, but it just hasn't inspired me, too 'expected' and 'obvious' maybe, and I'm just not that kinda girl! So you're not getting a piece about love this week, but you are going to get something that is equally intangible.

Waiting ... a space for imagination, dreams, desires, aspirations, inspirations ... The space that occurs before the jump, the voyage or the seeds to grow.

The Art Of Waiting

Hazel Evans

Whilst exploring my 'waiting', I started looking for a few quotes that inspired me and it seemed that there were two types of waiting that people wrote about:

1. waiting = time wasting 
2. waiting = patience

... oooh this has just got complicated, I guess the key is not to wait for too long! But how long is too long?

Time waits for no man

So you may ask, 'Hazel what are you waiting for?' Well, mes chers amis, I have been cultivating, planting seeds and now I am waiting for them to grow. Surely this is not time wasting, but indeed, patience?

Oh busy busy bees,

Keep flying for me

Into the pages I write.

I've written the words

Set them free like birds

Now can I sleep tonight?

Oh busy busy bees

Keep making honey for me

Nectar for my seeds to grow.

I'm ready on the block

Singing with the clock

I'm ready for the voyage you know!

Hazel Evans

I guess another consideration is the kind of waiting one does, what one waits for, and what one chooses to do with ones waiting time!

This week's top 3 waiting activities:

1. Listening to music
2. Sketching
3. Dreaming

All of the above activities are highly recommended and conducive to enlivening creativity whist in a waiting scenario, however, be careful of No.3 as too much of this could induce time wasting!

This week I knew I wanted to create an illustrative piece again, after all the Odeful words of last week, my pen was hungry for some linear scribbling. Where to begin? ... I saw a picture posted on Facebook of a woman dancing in the street and it looked like it had been drawn over a photograph, this lit up a lightbulb for me. I took one of my portrait shots for The Monochronium by Danika Westwood and used this as the departure for the new illustration.

It was a strange experience as I sat there poised with my pen looking at myself there sitting poised with a pen! It was like we were going to draw each other ... I took a deep breath ... stop thinking and just be with the pen ... Just follow the lines ... let the lines guide you into the blank paper.

And so the drawing began...

... The waves rumbled from my hair and created a sea on which my strong sailed ship voyaged upon the oceans wide. My shoulders bubbled me into a mixture of lines, dots and crosshatchings as I held on tightly to my pen I was determind to not let these waves disolve me into a blurred scribbling mess. 'Just keep following the lines', I kept repeating to myself. I knew that if I just kept following the lines everything would become clearer soon.

As I followed the lines I thought about home, 'Where was my home?' I was unsure at this point, but although this uncertainty questioned my mind, I realised that behind the front door, was a whole world of places and opportunities for a home to be, so I walked up the steps and took hold of the door handle. I felt safe opening the door as a warm breeze whispered in my ear, 'Home is where the heart is my friend'. I walked into the hall way and up the spiral staircase. There was a rounded window, but I couldn't quite see out of it, so I pushed up an old chest of draws, climbed on top, and from there I was able to see out.

Wow, what a view! From here I could see all kinds of flowers and trees that filled the garden below. There were glimpses of bright fresh budding stems and branches. Everything looked beautifully still and silent, but I knew inside it was growing, ready for the spring blossom. I looked out beyond the garden, acres upon acres of fields surrounding my entire house. There was a figure in the distance ploughing the fields, I called out, 'Hello!... Hello!' and waved. They waved back at me, and I smiled as I realised they were planting new seeds that would grow and make the garden bigger.

... 'Ouch!', I felt a prick on my leg and then a bee flew out of the window. 'That bee just stung me!' I exclaimed to myself. 'Bee, oh busy bee, do come back!', I jumped off the chest of draws and ran down the stairs, burst open the door and stopped. It was dark! What happened, where did the light go? I stood there stunned. 'I hope I haven't missed anything', I thought to myself. It was so silent and dark, I was afraid as I stood there alone. As the dark got darker, the light of the moon grew stronger and I began to hear a voice singing. I looked up into the sky and saw the crescent moon, she was singing to me. 'Oh busy busy bee, listen to me, keep your eyes shining bright, you've followed the lines and waited for times, and now you can sleep tonight.'

I smiled back at the moon, went inside my home and up to bed. I had a busy day ahead of me tomorrow. There was a ship waiting to take me on my voyage and I had to make sure I was up bright and early to get my ticket.


(1) www.brainyquote.com

Inspire 52 - Week 6. Off With Her Ode!

So what has inspired me this week? It's difficult to tell really, given that I have been feeling pretty uninspired all week! This is mainly due to the fact that I have been suffering from the third cold of the winter (once a month for the last three months ... it's getting a bit of a drag!) So the challenge is to make this an inspiration for Inspire 52 week 6 - here goes!

On Friday night I posted on Facebook "That's it I'm done with winter ... Can't do it anymore!" I've just logged and it seems to have generated a mini debate between friends.

"Winter is soft and white and fluffy and cold...merely a transition from old to new...hibernation and bug killing time"

And the reply to this was ...

"Nothing fluffy about winter... it's harsh... like a seasonal blade of ice particles, forever slicing the soul of sunshine dreamers. It's brittle, and freezing. The whole season should be damned... if it were not for the fact it reminds us how cool spring is."

Great, love it! Two completely contrasting views. There are way too many things I could comment on in the list of responses, but this one seems to be the most apt for what I am writing now.

" It is the void of uninspiration which inspires me"

Well I suppose I would have to agree at this point, as I am here trying to be inspired for my Inspire 52, something somewhere is in fact inspiring me through all this uninspiration ... does that make any sense? So lets focus on the uninspiration and see where it leads ...

 "off with her head!" The Queen of Hearts - Alice in Wonderland Lewis Carroll 1951

If I recall back to Monday for a moment, I did have a glimpse of inspiration. I was at work looking rough and ill and thought a head transplant would have been a good idea! 1, because my throat was hurting so much that the blade probably would not have made the slightest bit of difference! And 2, because the onset of winter blues had begun nibbling away at my psyche and this seemed like a good solution, albeit radical! For a moment I was transported, down the rabbit hole and playing croquet with the Queen of Hearts, having tea with Alice and the Mad Hatter. I thought perhaps I could be the Queen of Spades, a new addition to the story that way I could wear black and white of course! That is where my inspiration ended on Monday, day one of Week 6, what a great start!
(By the way, I hope that you are picking up on my sarcasm here!)

So here we are on Saturday, day 6, only one day to go until the self inflicted deadline. It's like having to hand homework in once a week, only to myself! I was chatting with my friend and colleague earlier, Caroline Parrott, she was the one who started Make 52 last year and who I am carrying on from with the creative '52' legacy. Aware that this week would be a bit of a rant about how crap winter was making me feel and that this would be reflected in my work she agreed and said that it had happened to her on occasions too, and that doing the 52 project was a bit like "a weekly dose of analysing yourself". So I guess there are going to be a whole host of emotions themes inspirations and uninspirations that get revealed as I am giving a piece of my life to you, this is a window of truth. Thank you Caroline, that did indeed help me to come to terms with what I have written, am writing and indeed will write in the future.

(By the way, I always much prefer having pictures to look at ... but there are no pictures so far ... lol ... I hope you're staying with me on this one :-)

Ok, where were we? Yes ... I am feeling particularly uninspired to create something visual so I thought I would do a written piece this week. So I have begun thinking about what it could be, a piece of prose, a poem or just a word! Hey that would be too easy ...

Having decided that I fancied writing a piece and thought back to Keats whom I studied as part of my A'levels. I thought his work was just great, especially the 50 line poem he wrote about a Greek pot! I remember studying this and being in fits of laughter with my friends, why would anyone write such an epic poem about a pot! Ode on a Grecian Urn is in fact one of his most acclaimed poems, hmmm.... - thanks Keats! Not the most chirpy of poets, but indeed a great man of words from the early 1800s. So in homage to Keats I have decided to write an ode.

What is this Ode going to teach me? Well, it will be a new poetic formula that I have never used before in my written work. Having looked at a few of his poems, I have decided I am going to attempt to follow Keats' example from Ode to Autumn; 3 stanza's each of 11 lines. Before I get onto my Ode, (which I haven't written yet 20.22 Saturday evening) I thought I'd find my inspiration from Ode To Autumn as it has a seasonal aptness that is speaking to me, and given that Keats did not write an Ode To Winter, I have now bestowed myself with this task ... bonding with a dead poet! The full Ode To Autumn, is at the bottom of the blog just in case you fancy a read.

Ode to Autumn is described to be a poem about the progression through the seasons, the harvest and the onset of winter. 'The work has also been interpreted as a meditation on death; as an allegory of artistic creation' (1) Interesting!! And apparently it is considered to be one of the 'most perfect short poems of the English Language'(2)  ... Okay, so I have not set myself a difficult task then! My attempt is going to be totally improvised and hopefully will be written before midnight tonight! I have three hours and thirteen minutes to go! ... no pressure then ...

Okay here goes, get into the zone .... think early 1800s, miserable poet! ...


Ode To Winter - Hazel Evans

Season of white and frozen-filled air
A companion of the darken'd night
Hatching bleak plans without a care
It will be a long time until warm light;
Taken at the throat and lining the lung,
The whitening cracks of splitting ice
Make their way through each pumping vein
Feeding the weakness, clamping the vice;
Tweeting bitter sliced tunes only half sung
Transitional operations are only half begun
As the wounds are cut open by frozen rain.

Who hath not caught a cold this winter?
Lucky bugger, abroad hath your time be spent?
Shackled here with my throat'd splinter
You lucky fellow, may your luck be lent!
For here this story gets icier than icy,
As the Queen of Hearts has ordered my head
But winter has frozen my coronary beat
And banished me, eucalyptus-fumed to bed.
Steady thy chili hand, go easy on the spicy
A hot water bottle will do me quite nicely
Thou watchest the socks dressing thy feet.

Where the songs of Spring? Where the hell are they!
Think not this state of time be forever in freeze
That one day soon we'll sing a warm play,
That our layers of layers remove with ease.
Recovered from the bitter poison injection,
Will the heart grow warmer and fonder?
Again the desire lives, sweet passion not dies
In the bleakness of this day, 'tis thy wonder,
The yearning and waiting upon your reflection,
The inspiration, creation in hibernation,
From whence the frozen bird again once flies!

Voila! Check in time 22.11
I quite enjoyed that, I hope you do too. I am sure Keats spent longer than two hours on his masterpiece, and I'm sure his sentences are much better composed than mine, but hey.

Now it's Keats' turn - Critical comparison anyone!

Ode to Autumn - John Keats

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,-
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

John Keats is considered as a Romantic Poet perhaphs this is a good lead into Valentine's next week.
Until then, I hope you have enjoyed my uninspired rant of truthful insight and masterful poem for Inspire 52 Week 6!

Now here's some pictures!

Wow, I've done it homework in!

Quotes
- (1) (2) Wikipedia