You don’t need expensive materials to make great art

Nature Collage

Nature Collage

Do you love shops that sell art supplies? I do!
I feel like a kid in a sweet shop as I step into any establishment offering an array of paper and pencils, paint and canvas. I remember a feeling of sheer delight on receiving my very first tin of 40 watersoluble Caran d’Ache coloured pencils (yes, I still have the tin, though just 36 much shorter pencils remain) and I have a similar feeling each time I step out of an art shop loaded with new supplies. However, my visits to such shops are rare at present. I have a plentiful supply of art materials and, in recent years, have come to realise that the purchase of supplies, when I already have some, can be a form of procrastination, holding me back from creating…
Why waste time in the art shop when I could be making art?

What matters to me now, much more than obtaining new materials – and the feelings of excitement and possibility that go with them – is the actual making of art on a daily basis. The work I make now, rarely requires any materials or purchases, other than those I find for free just before I start creating.

As I wander out on my daily walks, I am regularly struck by the abundance of materials that are there at our finger tips, just waiting to be used, but are often overlooked. Always a scavenger when walking on the beach, I gather stones and shells, driftwood and seaweed. In years gone by, the gathering may have provided sufficient satisfaction, my treasures returning home with me, to become clutter in my bedroom. I did once cover a chair in shells I had collected, but that aside, the things I gathered were merely part of a collection. These days, I am drawn to creating temporary art, making something simple from the leaves, sticks, stones, feathers and other raw materials that nature offers up, asking nothing in return. My usual theme is simple faces, made in moments. I photograph them as a record, but it is highly likely, especially on windy days, that they will be gone in little more than the time it took me to create them. It is the act of creating – and how it feels – that is most important to me these days.

A couple of years ago, my friend Julia Barnickle captured me in action, making a One Wheeled Thames Serpent on the banks of the river. As you will see, from the video below, I am at ease and in flow when collecting and creating.

London Cameos – Gabriel’s Wharf, South Bank – Julia Elmore from Julia Barnickle on Vimeo.

This past week, a couple more videos have appeared on my radar, showing other people who create art from discarded items. The first showcases six artists, all creating using discarded materials. The variety of work, both in choice of materials and in scale was jaw-dropping. I hope you will enjoy the video and feel inspired, as I was, to experiment with new materials and find fresh ways of working.

The second video showed how the Aboriginal residents of a Cape York community are gathering debris from the beach and transforming such items as washed up old fishing nets and turning them into sculptures of beauty, depicting the sea creatures that may otherwise have been caught up in these “ghost nets”. The accompanying article explains how, in doing so, the sculptors are not only helping clear up their beaches and preserve the wildlife that may otherwise have perished, but also creating work that connects to their country, their ancestors and in the case of Short Joe, their art becomes a passport to visiting other countries.

Do you make art from materials you find? Please let me know in the comments below.

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Inspiration exists

trio“Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.”
Pablo Picasso

Tomorrow is the back to school; the return to routine, and I have to say, I am quite looking forward to it. I find freedom in constraint.

Our Summer has been an amazingly varied one. I started by gaining my Competent Crew certificate on the solent, then heading off to sail the Ionian Sea with my love and the boys. The stunning views of distant islands from the yacht would have been the perfect exercise in limited colour palette (but those images will have to wait for another post as the photos are still stuck on the phone). But I made very little art this holiday. Knowing that quiet time alone would be in short supply, I chose not to frustrate myself with the intention to create at home, though on picnics in places where I knew the boys could run free, I took pastels and paper just in case and was rewarded on a couple of occasions. Enough solo space, bum on rug as kids ran and played, allowed me to do a few drawings. A last minute trip to Cornwall for a couple of days meant an unexpected visit to Tate St. Ives and to the even more delightful Barbara Hepworth Museum and Sculpture Garden. The five hour journey there and back would have been worth if for that place alone. Meantime, the ideas were brewing.

This weekend, kids with Dad, I allowed myself to get going. On Friday night, I covered the table with newspaper, donned my dirty jeans and painting shirt and the canvas and acrylics came out. Having had countless ideas and images in my head over the six weeks of school holidays, I didn’t think I would find it difficult to make something I was happy with. How wrong I was. Before long, the frustration was mounting. I painted; painted over; tried something new; gave up. Paint was not working. In giving up on my painting, I did not give up on art, but rummaged through my art drawer for some charcoal. I found my big A2 drawing pad and started, this time with nothing in mind than to draw whatever flowed. The three charcoal drawings above were what came in the space of an hour or so. The outside light was on for some reason, so glimpsing the leaves lit through the window must have inspired me (but it was not until the following day that I realised the works must also have been influenced by my visit, earlier in the week to The Inner Self: Drawings from the Subconscious and represented, in some way, the unspoken words that had been forming in my head recently). I spent a little while in the garden too… shadows fell on the paper as I rested it on the ground and the inspiration grew stronger. I could have worked all night. Strangely (and unlike me when in flow) I chose not to. Instead, I chose bed and rose ready to begin again in the morning, working in pastels this time. I did one piece I was happy with then rested and turned to writing.

All Summer long I had intended to go visit the Matisse Cut Outs exhibition at Tate Modern, but for some reason (or many) had not managed it. Due to the popularity of the show, the Tate stayed open all night Saturday and into Sunday, so this morning, I caught the early train to London Bridge. My mission was to top up the inspiration tanks at the show. I had playbook and pens at the ready and was not disappointed. The elegant simplicity of the works astounded me. One of the pieces that moved me most was Oceania, The Sky as, with my fondness for brown packaging paper, I was able to envisage ways of creating a piece directly inspired, but quite different. Each room gave me new ideas for projects.

Next, I followed Ben Wilson’s chewing gum trail across the Millennium Bridge and chose to walk all the way to my next destination on the North (instead of my usual fave) South Bank. Again, inspiration was leaping out at me everywhere. I took photos, made notes and absorbed everything. Nothing like a stroll in the city to get the creative juices flowing. Time sat alone in busy places with notebook and pen allows me to consolidate things and if accompanied by good food in an atmospheric café all the better. I got lucky, filling several pages over porridge and chai at Dishoom. Once again, inspiration found me working.

The trick now is to turn that inspiration into something more concrete and this is often the point at which I resist. Fear kicks in and I kid myself that inspiration itself is enough. It is not. That is why I halted this blog post right there at the last full stop to go make something. You can see the result (white paper on brown manilla envelope with room for address on the left hand side) at the bottom of this post.
Today’s outing was a deliberate inspiration-seeking adventure. I went armed with supplies to work on my art and my ideas. The run-up to the day was filled with art-making and not, as I have explained, of the straight forward kind. I could have given up when the painting was not flowing, but chose to push through in a different medium. Inspiration found me working and it will find you too, if you work at it.matisseIf you need a little kick-start on your own inspiration-seeking adventure, why not join me…? The first of my Inspiration Days are coming soon.
Book now to be ahead of the game!
I challenge you to come out and play… experience the city through the eyes of an artist…
I guarantee inspiration will find you.

A lesson in letting go

An arrangement of cut-outs on my table

On Friday, I decided to let go and see where the “I don’t know” would take me.
I let go of the desire to make good art and embraced the fact that, as I picked up my scissors, cut into my painted papers and pasted them onto a pre-coloured background, I had no idea what I was making or where the work was going. The idea was just to play, to create freely without ideas or expectations.
Now, if the truth be told, this idea of total freedom was not entirely true…
The one expectation I had was that the piece I was creating would be of a size that could fit into a particular box frame I had waiting for it, if I deemed it worthy.
The one idea I had was that I would create something inspired by the work of Jonathan McCree, whose works of “almost symmetry” had so inspired me.

What I was not expecting, when I felt I was coming close to just trying the piece in the frame, was that it would not fit. The background paper which I had cut some weeks earlier was not, as I had thought, the size of the frame. It was a little larger and I had been collaging away without realising that what I was creating would be so much larger than the frame that even a careful cropping to the edges of the image would not be enough to squeeze it in.

After careful consideration, I decided that this was a lesson to me. I chose to see this as a happy accident, pushing me out of my comfort zone, reminding me not to be attached to a particular outcome and forcing me to take the work in a direction I had not intended.

Just before the cut

So, feeling less frustrated by little hurdle than I was excited by the possibilities, I moved forward with the piece, carefully cutting round the shapes with a view to reassembling them on a different background to fit the frame. I loved the new shapes that emerged. I was thrilled by the different configurations I was able to make. It may take a little longer for me to figure out how to finish this, but I am happy to wait. The way the individual elements looked once separated from the background gave rise to a whole stream of unforeseen options that would never have arisen had I stuck with my original path.

Another cut-out arrangement on my table

Today, I am grateful for happy accidents.
I am loving my lessons in letting go.
I am looking forward to seeing where the next step takes me.

Do you have any stories of letting go and how doing so has impacted your life or your art? I would love to hear your experiences. Please feel free to share them here.

With love,
Julia x

Letting myself off the hook

Letting myself off the hook from Be Creative Daily on Vimeo.

So here I am, enjoying this freedom and feeling a fresh sense of optimism as though things are slowly slotting together and making sense, piece by piece, day by day, when I stumble upon the work of the artist Jonathan McCree.

McCree’s paintings spoke to me in a very immediate way, as art occasionally does, on a level I find it hard to explain, as though there is some sense of familiarity, like a deja vu or ancient knowing… a heartfelt connection that cannot be described.

So I dug a little deeper, found out a little more and discovered a video of the artist talking about his work. It is ten minutes long, but I have had it on watch and rewind, watch and rewind, watch…

And now, I understand exactly why his work spoke to me. I know why this art came up on my radar right now. In the artist’s words:

“Usually when I work on anything, I am trying to devise a strategy for unknowing something. It’s much more interesting for me if I don’t know what I’m going to do, so I tell myself all the way through, “I don’t know, I don’t know” so it’s almost like a mantra. And for me, the strategy of doubt and constant questioning or deferral of what the project is about is usually the best way to end up somewhere and I don’t know at this stage where I will end up.”

This is where I am. This is what I feel. This is what I trust.

When the artists talks about his approach to his work he is speaking about something that can (and indeed should) be applied to almost all aspects of our lives… letting go and allowing things to unfold.

I started on a collage this morning:
symmetry
colour
pattern
nature
It is inspired by Jonathan McCree and I will developing this further.
When I do, I will share it here.

I want to see where the “don’t know” takes me, both in art and in life.

It is an interesting place to be… I feel like I am on the edge of something.

Seeing beauty in what’s left behind

The beauty that remains

Much of my recent work has involved painting and collage. I love the feel of spreading paint across paper, watching the way the colours interact when they meet as I cover the paper I soon will cut with vivid hues.

I have been experimenting with templates and stencils… creating my own shapes which I can draw around, paint over or into and repeat and cut out, put together, arrange, rearrange, then paste.

Today, I was about to recycle a small piece of paper I had been using to protect my work surface when I was last painting.
Something struck me.
I looked a little closer.
A flower emerged.
I cut it out, examined it closely, saw beauty there.

When we create a work of art, so much more goes into it than what the viewer witnesses as a finished product. So much more is left behind… the chaos of the studio, the paint-covered palette, the dirty brushes or filthy fingers. We pack up, clear it all away, move on.

The same goes for so many things.

When something is finished, be it a work of art, a job or a relationship, be careful not to label the remnants as debris and automatically consign them to the trash.
Take a fresh look.
See things from a different angle.
Remove the bits that no longer serve you and see the beauty in what remains.

Please let me know what you find.
With love,
Julia x

Breaking through creative blocks to finish what I started

Birds in flight

Birds in flight

Last week I started playing… painting with my hands, expressing myself freely, seeing what came out. I loved it… the freedom of movement, the new ways in which I was applying paint, with paper, cardboard, sticks, fingers, even the side of my hand. I liked what I created… the textures, the layers of colour, the freedom of allowing myself to create freely without a goal or even an image in mind was liberating and fun.

However, when it came to moving on to the next stage… attempting to assemble it into some kind of finished work, something changed. I no longer liked it. I felt frustrated, incompetent, restrained.

So I stopped.

Then I looked around… and in doing so, I noticed several abandoned projects. I saw the empty frames asking to be filled. I saw the half-finished paintings, waiting for me to go back to them. I saw the little sculptures that I intended to paint. One day.

And something happened. I realised that this is the point at which I always abandon. This is the moment, when the fear and the feeling of not being good enough take over and I stop. I identified my pattern… my stumbling block.

So I made a conscious decision to continue. I decided to keep working and push through the creative block to see what would happen if I just kept on creating. I tore up my textures and began layering them again. I cut out shapes and pieced them together and added more layers and within the space of just ten minutes, I was happy again. I had created something I loved and wanted to stay up all night just to get it finished.

Common sense (and fatigue) got the better of me and I went to sleep work unfinished, but today I went back to the piece again.

I layered more. I painted more. I cut new images, pasted them on… and frustration set in again. Doubts crept in… I felt like walking away. So I did for a while, but instead of walking away from my art, I painted through the frustration, I cut more shapes, tried new techniques and went back to the original piece.

It took a while to arrive at the finished piece, but I made it. With persistence and determination I managed to create something I rather like. I needed patience to reach this place, but it sits in a big square box frame now, grass flapping forward as if bowing in the breeze, birds wings curling as though in flight and I have positioned it, pride of place, in the living room, just to remind me that if I just keep on going I will get there… even if I don’t know exactly where I am headed when I start.

Flock of birds painting framed

Flock of birds painting framed

Awareness is the first step

I realised something this evening: I have been working on my creative vision this week, but not on my art.

As soon as I became aware of this, I stopped what I was doing and made art. Just something small. A little postcard. A collage. I did not spend long. The distractions are a part of the bigger picture… small, but important steps towards a free-range career that allows me the liberty to create, inspire and spend time with my boys. But art remains the focus.

What mattered most this evening was that I did make time for my art. A while back, I would have let it slip. I would have acknowledged the importance of art, but I would also have told myself “you don’t have time,” or “it doesn’t matter, you can do it another day.” No more. The awareness that I had been putting my art off, led to immediately giving it top priority again. I did not make excuses, I just made art.

This evening, the Fear was not there.

Have you been putting off something that is really important to you?
What can you do right now, to change that… to give that thing priority again?

Simple pleasures

The long-anticipated half-term week disappointed with events and plans being cancelled due to the rain. Boys were keen to lay low, stay home, hang out, watch TV, play games… the opposite of the out-of-doors activities I usually have in mind for time away from school. This time, however, I chose to go with the flow, follow the consensus and the initial disappointment on my part turned to an enjoyment of simple things. I took the opportunity to bake cakes, tend the garden, do things close to home. We borrowed some fabulous kids’ cookery books from the local library to satisfy the little chef and keep me busy. We cooked together, changed the recipes to fit what we had… banana and chocolate loaf became banana and blueberry. The heavy rain reminded me to sprinkle more seed on the bare patches of lawn and spend a little while attaching wire to fences, give the plants a helping hand. We put on our boots. We blew bubbles in the rain. The boys built a shelter using old bits of wood, chairs, then sat there for ages watching the rain. Simple pleasures. We went to visit my Mum. The boys worked together, my brother joined in, a castle was constructed from the pile of bricks in her back garden. And today, with big boy back at school, small boy and I turned to paper, scissors, glue and sat together at the table, making. Then, when we were done, we put on our coats and went for a walk in the rain. Home again, we baked courgette cake and ate it warm, just out from the tin and felt grateful for our cosy home, comfort food and good company.

Tea, cake and collage

Four of my fabulous friends just headed home after the first ever Be Creative Daily workshop with Life Collages to be proud of.

I can think of few better ways to spend an evening than drinking tea, eating cake and making art with friends. With little more than a piece of card, a pile of magazines, a pair of scissors and some glue, wonderful, inspiring and possibly life-changing art was created here at BCD HQ tonight!

The process is simple, the result powerful. Life Collage is way of exploring your likes, loves, dreams and desires, in an intuitive, feeling way… discovering images that resonate, words that inspire and putting them together to create a visual expression of the good things you would like in your life. This evening’s Life Collagers all left with a smile, having met new friends, shared lively conversation and interesting ideas whilst making very personal works of art.

I have spoken with lots of people about the creation of Life Collages. For many, they have acted as a powerful tool for change, bringing into focus what is important in their lives. I look forward to hearing what positive changes come about following the creation of these veritable dream boards here tonight.

Paper, scissors, paint

There has not been a great deal of time to write these past few days. Sickness in the house has allowed little time to think with the clarity required to finish a paragraph. Big boy was quietly ill, spending most of his sick-time reclining under a blanket on the sofa before bouncing back the next day, full of beans, raring to go… just as small boy became lethargic and ill. Small feverish boy has been (and continues to be) rather vocal, poor chap, so my bursts of creativity have been punctuated by cries for cuddles (which of course I don’t refuse), and doses of medicine. I have managed to be surprisingly productive with with the art though. Perhaps these little interruptions mean that by the time I get back to the job in hand, I too am raring to go, keen to get on and create, having been dragged away and then returning by choice, rather than succumbing to the usual distractions that prevent me from focusing for long.

Whatever it is that is happening with my art, I am enjoying it. I have been trying to create whilst the boys are around, get them involved if possible, rather than waiting until they are tucked up in bed before I pick up my tools and begin. Yesterday, with big boy back at school, small boy and I did some “scissoring”, as he likes to call it. I had painted some large sheets of paper whilst he was sleeping, then cut petals from these and magazine pages of a similar colour, before forming them into paper flowers which reminded me of things my grandmother used to make as Christmas decorations. Memories of borrowing her pinking shears, a.k.a. “angry scissors”, to snip jagged lines into cloth and paper, came flooding back as I saw small boy’s pleasure at snipping alongside me. After a little while, he gave in to the fever and requested I cut a little cat from an advertisement in one of the magazines, to sit alongside him whilst he rested. He and the cat sat happily for a while, watching and chatting as I worked, the cut-out-cat on a small cushion, before disappearing temporarily, down a gap in the sofa, only to be noticed missing and retrieved some while later, slightly crumpled, but still intact. It was at this point that he went to live on the window ledge.

The flowers formed the beginning of another collage piece which is still in progress, but can be seen here in its current state.
This afternoon, I took some paints into the garden for both small boy and myself, hoping that he would paint alongside me. He found the movement of his paper in the breeze rather too frustrating, so we returned indoors and sat at the table to work on our individual projects. I had given him a selection of paints on a plate, and a handful of cotton buds to try instead of brushes. He loved dipping and dabbing, and produced a rather lovely dotty work in blue, green, yellow and pink. As he was using both ends of the cotton buds, his fingers had also become painted, so he added some finger dots, then hand-prints to the piece you can see here, below.
Meanwhile, I completed a new little self-portrait in watercolour which I had begun last night, but had put on hold to answer a call from small boy upstairs which became a cuddle and a  sleep and when I woke up, work unfinished at 5am, I was still wearing the red dress I had been painting.
I feel I am on a roll today. I would like to continue painting long into the night, but common sense is telling me not to, that sleep is more important and that little and often is good. This time, I am listening.

But first, I must seek out the gorgeous little black and gold buttons, purchased in a vide grenier in rural France several years ago, which I squirreled away somewhere, until I could find a good use for them. This afternoon, I purchased the perfect cardigan for these little gems. Now, all I have to do is locate that safe place I put them in…