It’s always useful to practice basic skills like colour mixing, composition and mark making. I’ve been slowly coming to the realisation that I’ve lost some of my own style, especially in terms of mark making. There’s a couple of reasons for that, which it’s probably not useful to document.
How to fix it? De-influencing myself through less time watching other artists online. Looking at other artist’s work is fine but, for me anyway, watching them work is often detrimental unless it’s a specific technique I want to learn.
The other thing I’m doing is practicing the basics by colour mixing, inspired by Sarah Renae Clark’s Colour Cubes, then doing a small piece in those colours, an idea I got from Denise Love. That said, I’m making a conscious effort to use my brush strokes and my marks to ensure the hand of the artist shows.
In October & November I had work in the Awagami International mini print exhibition in Japan. I received a highly commended and the work, Summer nights in the New Zealand bush, sold.
Yesterday I came home to a package from Japan – a lovely certificate, the exhibition catalogue with my name listed under Juror’s Choice, a letter and some beautiful paper to print on.
The exhibition had 1,067 artists from 58 countries enter 1,524 works and over 1,200 people visited the gallery. I’ll be entering again in 2027.
In my last blog post I said I was pleasantly surprised by the desire to create so soon after Tony’s death. I’m still creating, taking it gently but feeling good about it.
People ask how I am … I’m ok. Am I great? No, but it’d be a bit weird if I was. I describe it as appropriately sad. The sadness comes and goes – after 33 years together, and all the years of slowly losing Tony, that feels ok.
So I’m being kind to myself and creating with low expectations, doing what I feel like in the moment. I’m feeling inspired by Welsh castles, a theme I return to semi-regularly, often accompanied by masts, swords and what’s probably blood. It is what it is…
In these current works, which are about A3 size, it feels important to work in overlapping layers. Why? I don’t know yet, but I’m happy to trust the process.
Tony & I nursed Mum for 14 years. After she died I didn’t create any finished art pieces for about 18 months. I expected the same to happen when Tony died. I’ve been prepared to spend my time creating in my art journals, relying on Dina Wakley and Dyan Reaveley for inspiration.
Tony passed away three weeks ago tomorrow night. Last night I decided to put together a large concertina journal using Hahnemühle Bamboo Mixed Media paper. I figured it’d probably sit around for ages, unused, but making something was a positive step.
Alan went to work early this morning, and I had some time at my desk before Sandra and I went out, then a few hours on my own once we got home. I, not sure where this is going, but there’s art happening and I’m amazed.
I was talking to my good friend, and fellow artist, Pen Kirk about why it’s different this time. I feel I’ve had better self care throughout because I’ve “been there, done that”l also, I’m older, so have more life experience.
Talking to my sister later, she remarked “Alan’s pretty helpful. Wasn’t Tony getting unwell by the time Mum died?” and both of those things are true. I’ve been fortunate to have Alan’s support the last few years, whereas in the final years with Mum Tony was already struggling.
It’s great that I want to create already, but I won’t be putting any pressure on myself to create finished work. Whatever I do is ok…
Yesterday we held a small, private service for Tony, attended by family, close friends, some of his ex-colleagues and my work family. It was recorded so people who couldn’t attend are able to watch online.
His daughter Yasmine, son Ben, brother Roger and I were comforted by the memories shared, and love in the room.
Music was important to Tony – when he was struggling with pain I’d put his headphones on and he’d fall asleep to the music. In the final days when nothing seemed to get him comfortable, and he was too generally sore to wear headphones, I put the radio on and he settled a bit.
Tony had chosen two songs – Beautiful trauma by Pink and The Ghosts that haunt me by The Crash Test Dummies. I added a third, Guide me home, sung by Freddie Mercury and Monserrat Caballe from the Barcelona album which he loved.
I want to finish this with some of the lyrics from two of those songs, but before I do there’s one last thought I want to share. While we were planning the service Kelly, from Hardings Funerals, said to people don’t understand until it happens that, in the moment the coffin closes or they leave the service, their loved one becomes an ancestor.
And so it is with me. After 33 years, in an instant, Tony became my late husband and, to use Kelly’s words, that’s a pivotal moment. Rest in peace Tony – in the words of the poem I read, you continue to be my star, my dear.
From ‘The ghosts that haunt me’
There will come a time I fear when all my days are done And they will come collect my corpse and bury me And then I hope you’ll come over to the Other Side To join me in our new life, keep me company
From ‘Guide me home’
Now the wind has lost my sail Now the scent has left my trail Who will find me, take care and side with me Guide me back safely to my home Where I belong, once more
Where is my star in heaven’s bough Where is my strength, I need it now Who can save me, lead me to my destiny Guide me back safely to my home Where I belong, once more
Who will find me, take care and side with me Guide me back safely to my home Where I belong, once more
Cath Sheard Art 