Now I am sketching and painting properly again, I can't think why I spent so many years crying into a metaphorical pillow because I couldn't get (much) publishing work or because galleries didn't want me. So much time and effort expended for so little reward. Now I am regularly selling to the people who really matter - the people who put it on their walls - and I feel liberated. It is amazing that I am finally doing what I doggedly planned to do, way back when I was twelve, and making a solemn vow to my recently dead parents (especially my old dad). Several times along the way I got distracted and misled, but all the paths eventually led back to this one. I follow the map best when I heed my own directions.
To be delving deep into my creative innards again is a joyous experience. I find myself re-visiting old themes, many of which I haven't explored for a long time. Pre-blog. My bird ladies for instance. My beloved bird ladies. Not on my website, not in the blog, not sold, not printed. A few who read this may know what I am talking about - I showed them to one or two people. I took them to a gallery owner who told me that they were 'beautiful, but not something they could sell'. They went back in the portfolio, their wings clipped. Some of my best bird lady paintings have been languishing far from home and they are coming back at last, I cannot wait to hold them again.
To find the bird lady, look for the three pronged tail...
Bird ladies usually find themselves isolated in a room with a distant window. This time I am going to let them into the city. A city I used to paint when I was an infant of twenty years.
En route to a dazzling party, the Grand Duchess Amaretto de Carciobanna rolls through the city streets, pulled along on a silken scarlet rope by an anonymous flunky. Will someone remember to pick up her wheely bird? Because, you see, she could not possibly retrieve it herself, it simply would not do!
What will happen when my bird ladies meet my toys?
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