Inspire: it's not light we need but fire!

That's exactly what I was thinking this morning at 6.30am when I awoke to find the fire still burning in the hearth. Thank goodness for small mercies! Mind you, a little light also comes in handy at 6.30am in this part of the world, when all is dark and the only sound you can hear are the sounds of mice playing in the pasta packets in the pantry. Nice ;-)

There are projects in the air here at la Rivière. Subtle (and not so subtle) changes are occurring which bring out a hint of the inner fire. And where there's fire - there's colour!

Beaker has suggested a move to further shores. Seeing none of the options include Down Under, I've resolutely declined the offer. Not because I don't love to travel… BOY do I LOVE to travel!

 But because I'm setting up my own BIG art project here with marginalised women in Toulouse. A project I can move across to India afterwards.

Yes, as well as home schooling.

Yes, in case you were wondering, as well as trying to organise my own exhibitions.

Can you find the word 'courage' in the image up there?

I have to keep painting COURAGE in order to keep pulling it from somewhere.

I'm hoping to tap into a bottomless spring of it at some stage in the near future.

 Life here is all about metamorphosis. 

Even this piece rose out of the ashes.

Metaphorically speaking that is.

I just happened to splash a bottle of indigo ink I was having difficulty opening 

all over the bottom of a finished piece of work.

It was originally ONE WORD written on a page dating from 1715.

I nearly cried in frustration. 

NEARLY!

Then I started again with what I had, mistakes 'n' all.

Interesting what I ended up with.

Nothing like my original intention.

Does that ever happen to you?

It's not light that we need but fire; 

It's not the gentle shower but thunder; 

We need the storm, the whirlwind, the earthquake

Frederick Douglass 

(Dying to know who he is? Click here to find out.)

Have a great week every one :)

Ange

PS:  When I've framed it, like I intend to this week, I'll repost photos and put it up in my Etsy shop.

You can't be part of the beach with your shoes on!

As a would-be (by origin, not location UNFORTUNATELY) beach babe, toes-in-sand scruncher, and all round vagabond, imagine my joy when I stumbled on this colourful book :

Inspiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiired was I. Am still going through a yellow phase which I have subsequently put down to withdrawal symptoms: it has now been 5  months since I have had the pleasure of glimpsing, let alone scrunching, a single grain of golden sand. This means I have to resort to using a pumice stone in the shower… not quite the same joy ;-)

Anyhoooooo! Tis my Mama's birthday and she sort of subtly (like a sledgehammer) dropped the hint last time I was home, that her walls could do with a piece of my work. Alors, drumroll please! VOILA! Ze Masterpiece ;-)

In case you were wondering, which you may not have been, it is surprisingly delicate trying to dance a metal nib across a discarded roof plank, which is why I often use brushes instead. Roof planks are ornery things - having spent most of their life NOT being part of the beach - and highly resistant to being danced across with a metal nib (known in France as a 'plume'). Even if said nib is gaily dressed in shades of yellow. Sadly, I have been subject to a mutiny. My brushes are all ganging up on me at once, sporting punk hair cuts and brandishing rebel attitudes, supposedly due to my recent neglect. What then is an artist to do, but go back to square one?

Ah oui! Patience is definitely a virtue when one is wrestling with unbending 'plumes' and unforgiveably ornery wood. Of course, if your 'plume' has a distinct penchant for blue, then you oblige and drape her in turquoise. Only then will she really dance… like sea water sliding across the sand ...

Happy birthday Mama! Dutiful daughter now recommends that you remove your shoes and become part of the beach as you wait for your parcel to arrive :)

Thanks to all of you lovely people who commented for letting me know that my last post did indeed inspire you and make you smile. I can take off to Wales secure in the knowledge that you are smiling and well. Did I say 'take off to Wales.' Bugger! I knew there was a story I still hadn't told ;-)

See you in 10 days. I don't know if driving over the Severn River counts as glimpsing the sea… but it's as close as I'm going to get for now.

Much love
xxx

P.S.

I've put a few more photos of recent work HERE on my Facebook Page (click on the link for those of you who didn't know I had one!!) so if you want to check them out, don't forget to stop by and 'like' my page. It'd really make me smile too.

Colour me yellow

The sun's come out.

There's definitely spring in the air.

I can hear messmonsters laughing outside.

I am in a yellow phase

Sending a big splash of yellow to my family and friends in New Zealand who now have to rebuild again after the Earthquake. It's my way of sending Hope. Good vibes. Prayers.

If I could paint the world yellow, 

would it start to grow back beautifully?

Like spring daffodils

poking their tender, brave heads out gingerly

from the thawing Earth?

 

I feel like I have to try.

I'll start with splashing some around in my studio

Might be safer for us all ;-)

It'll be all white!!

From this perspective ... 

high up the mountain path that leads to La Colette

(Old chapel St Pierre, where Pokemon and Libellule were Christened)

It's all white 

as far as the eye can see.

From the back yard...

To the neighbour's place

Lucky we didn't need the lawn mower!

As I arrived late to the snow fields 

(between working and property negociations)

I thought I would take a closer look at all this white.

And all I could find was

COLOUR

In all its contrast and splendour.

Nothing is ever as white, or black, as it seems!

(Mmm - I love the rosehip syrup my MiL makes 

- looks and tastes scrumptious on FROMAGE BLANC

But we only get the syrup if we pick the rosehips OUCH!)

It seemed there were more adults on sleds than kids!! 

Anyway - sledding is thirsty work so I thought it time for a little mulled wine ...

in an ORANGE cup none the less!

Mustard, mayonnaise and Ketchup

The primary colours!

From my vantage point in the café I 

couldn't miss this fella sweeping  his roof and 

talking to his sweetheart at the same time...

Then Libellule's orange helmet

Loved the aqua blue snow machine
(not that it was in use this year!)

Pokemon passed his 2nd star in royal colours
(I think I am just about at 2nd star level but he is faster than me)

Libellule was a gold star!

And on the way back up the 4km track 

to that well lived and loved old farm house at 1700m altitude,

with its rough wood floors, worn through hundreds of years of use,

and no heating system other than an old wood stove...

I realised that for every thing to be all white.

It wouldn't be the same without a bit of colour to 

pepper its pristineness.

That's life! 

Paint my Love ... yellow!

"You know, the more I think, the more I feel
that there is nothing more truly artistic 
than to love People."
Van Gogh

I know I wrote this not long ago...
when I made my first attempts at painting Brismod's
favourite quote.

But I think Mr Gogh is seriously onto something there so 

I'm bringing it back.

Along with the 'final product.'

Nothing like positive reinforcement...

to chase away the winter greys.

(I'd say blues, but blues don't bother me ;-)

I mean, someone who used such cheery colours

Must truly have loved people...

Do I normally paint yellow?
Oh my lordy wordy wordy no!

Never! 

I mean EVER!

I'm a blue and white only girl - 

spattered from time to time with a little orange 

and just maybe a dash of red. 

But never yellow. Funny that.
(Maybe it is due to the time that, in some weird burst of 80s glee, I bought myself a canary yellow indian cotton top and skirt. My gay flat mate's only comment at the time was, 'Honey, if you insist on making me wear my raybans  inside ...' Well... I could take  my sunshine somewhere else so to speak ;-)

So no, No yellow since then!

Yet it still most lifts my spirits.

Thanks for the challenge Brismod ;-)

This is the coffee cup I found inside the 'paint my love' tin...

So another designer obviously shares the convictions of Van Gogh
and Mme Fun & VJs

Hope you don't mind wearing your sunnies inside!

What effect does colour have on you?

Coffee anyone?

Baaaaaaarrrrrrr celona! (Thanks Freddy)

I disappeared to Barcelona for the weekend, without warning anyone. I like disappearing. Makes me feel...

 ... magic.

Barcelona has no fear of form or colour. It is a full on swirl of rainbow music, a myriad of words one on top of the other, underneath and inside as well, with NO PUNCTUATION! Breathing in and out is almost a simultaneous action with no pause. Everything exists all at once... with a permanent exclamation mark!

You don't go for a run through Barcelona - you fly through it. From Besos (Kisses) to The Big W (Hotel, not supermarket for the Aussies ;-) this was my 15k run on a 22° Saturday evening Barcelona style in no particular order, as there is no order: La Femme au Chocolat, 20 year olds in shorts and bare feet off the beach, naked men off the beach, Hewy Lewis and the News, 20year olds in green stockings black opened toed heels and patterned shirts, Don't Leave Me This Way, Miro statues, Whale monuments, Surfersinandoutofthewater, boysbands, transsexual parades, The Eagles, into the less touristy Parca de la Citadella (less than the Parc Guell at least) and its fabulous world of marginality. Real Life. Art and movement in fluid form: jugglers, capoeira, volleyballers, acrobats, singers, dancers, rollerbladers, spanish guitar, cobbled streets, flashes of yellow. Flash, swirl, poof and my feet have left the ground for my wings are out and I am no longer breathing. I have merged with and become Barcelona in all its colour...

Quite simply alive with inspiration!

Phew! I'll be back to normal tomorrow.