blart

The Last Bunny

2012-01-22T12:30:00.000-08:00

If In Doubt - Double Sock

2012-01-19T12:43:00.000-08:00

January, bitch, moan

2012-01-15T02:26:00.000-08:00

Blart from the Past II

2012-01-08T03:43:00.000-08:00

Blart from the Past

2012-01-02T07:55:00.000-08:00

G-Day +1

2011-12-11T00:40:00.001-08:00

G-Day

2011-12-02T14:18:00.001-08:00

Capital Stuff

2011-11-18T02:58:00.000-08:00

Resolved with steely gaze

2011-11-04T02:06:00.000-07:00

More summer

2011-09-18T06:29:00.001-07:00

Another painting of the Royal Crescent, but this time it's up close - up close and personal...

A few things of interest:

A squirrel runs across the road and up the steps. He pauses, sniffing the air before running off into the small garden underneath the left hand window.
Some media type peepel turn up for a photo shoot and this model runs up and down in front of me with a dog at her heels while the photographer snaps away with his impressive lens.
The squirrel comes back. He's carrying something big in his mouth as he scampers down the steps and back across the road to safety.
The media peepel turn up again, but this time the model is in a different outfit. No running this time, but still with the dog. She tries to look thoughtful yet stylish while still holding a big model grin.
Someone laughs wildly in the distance. Whatever it was, I can't believe it was that funny.

Summer

2011-09-10T01:22:00.000-07:00

The last few days of summer (what summer?!) and I try and make an effort. It all goes horribly wrong when I set up and realise I've forgotten to bring any white paint. I try and compensate for the fundamental error by digging into this big heap of old dried white(ish) stuff on the edge of my palette and scraping it across the board, but it's no help with the delicate highlights on the windows and the little pinky bits (technical term) on the clouds. I have to give up and come back to finish it, but in the end I think it gets there:

August

2011-09-03T06:43:00.000-07:00

August - what happened there?!

I know what happened - holidays and stuff. The 'stuff' mostly consisted of wind and rain, but on the couple of sunny days we did have I managed to whip out the easel:

Dogboy!

2011-07-31T00:22:00.000-07:00

No new paintings to post - been away for a few days and still working on the pre-faces show - but in the meantime here's the amazing Dogboy cuddly toy!!!

You know you want one! Currently just a prototype, but who knows ...

Thanks to my sister-in-law Desiree B. for going above and beyond on this.

TBP days 4&5

2011-07-24T04:23:00.001-07:00

Day 3 and I think it's coming together - I'm committed now to the Theatre being the only painted building and maybe it will work and maybe it won't. I repair the figures as best I can - damn, but it's hard to paint people walking around. I'm standing in front of a pub courtyard and every morning the landlord is there clearing up. He seems to know everyone that walks past, but today he's not so happy, cos a seagull has just shat all over him. There, but for the grace of God, goes my painting ...

Day 4 - the end - it was pretty well finished yesterday, but I've arranged to meet Rodney, the big issue seller, to take some photos for a portrait. Lots of positive comments about the painting, but I don't know whether they realise that this is it:

Rodney turns up and I take a few snaps - it's going to be an interesting portrait.

Back in the studio:

TBP Days 2 & 3

2011-07-15T12:06:00.000-07:00

Progress is slow - dogged by delivery vans and slow moving cloud I soldier on. But how far? Should I paint the other buildings in?

I do the yellow lines and cock up a couple of figures, but is it enough?

Arty angst aside I become acquainted with Rodney Willis, Big Issue salesman extraordinaire (preferred pitch being the bench opposite the Pasty shop). He's got a big bushy beard and a grizzled face and he's amenable to sitting for a portrait - all promising for the pre{faces} project.

Also bump into the dad of the 13 year old genius painter I met down Great Pulteney Street. His sons career is going from strength to strength - just like mine! .... heh heh ...

3rd person - photographer guy who sells promo shots of Bath takes some snaps. Who knows, might be good - maybe lead to something, but hold on, shouldn't I have given him my card so I can get a mention. As it is I'm just some anonymous painter guy. Just the back of my head at that. Idiot.

Here we go again ...

2011-07-01T11:51:00.000-07:00

I told you: big, bold and splashy and boo yah (again, that exclamation that I never really say) something or other ... [I've totally lost the track of where I was going with this line]. Big, oh yes, big - it's the biggest painting I've ever done plein air - 4 feet wide and it acts like a sail as I walk into town. This would probably be fine if the wind was with me, but it isn't, so it just annoys me.

It's early in the morning - ostensibly this is because the sun will cover the face of the theatre in a lovely warm glow, but it also suits the need to minimise my exposure to ridicule. I'm standing in front of the outside seating area of a pub and anytime after 11.00 I'm likely to have a crowd of drinkers behind me who may, or may not, appreciate what I'm trying to do.

That said, it's good to be back outside painting again and after the initial nerves when the painting is just a load of sploshes, as soon as I can see that it's going to look alright I start to enjoy myself. Just until my back starts aching from my funny angle - canvas must be at an angle as well as the drips have gone sideways ...

It's a start.

Back in the studio:

Return of The Bath Prize

2011-06-26T06:21:00.001-07:00

For some reason the grey paint wasn't going on flat on this one, so I've resorted to putting a pattern on the background. Not sure it quite works, but it's done now.

On the plein air front, the Bath Prize has once again raised it's ugly head. After last years abysmal performance (although I still like the paintings I put in) I don't hold out much hope, but, hey ho, here we go ...

I get given (is that good English?!) the Theatre Royal/ Saw Close as a mandatory location to paint. It's somewhere I've never managed to capture satisfactorily before so I spend today trying out views/angles. Check out the following:

It's gonna be long and skinny and exciting with lots of brush strokes and stuff and boo ya! in ya face Bath Prize painter people!

I'll start painting next week (weather permitting!).

Ben Hughes: Party Painter!

2011-05-14T02:49:00.000-07:00

Again, I've let it slip with the street painting, but it's the royal wedding and we're having a street party - after the success of last year's street party painting how could I resist? (posted last June)

I've got the wrong size and shape board and there's no sun to speak of, but I've started now and there's a gaggle (what is the correct collective noun? - naggle?) of neighbours expecting results.

I can do it, I can do it, I can do it and then the crowd of country dancers in the middle gets all too messy and I have to admit defeat. Hopefully I can rescue it later in the studio and, anyway, I think it's time for a beer ...

I get a five second slot on the local news (which I didn't see, but have on reliable information) in their royal wedding street party round up. Which is nice.

Two weeks later and I've finally got round to sorting it out:

Maybe this is it - Ben Hughes: Party Painter! Birthdays, weddings, bar mitzvahs. Street parties a speciality ...

hmmm

Not WIP

2011-04-16T01:13:00.001-07:00

I originally posted these pictures a couple of months ago without the lines, but I just couldn't live with them. I kept on wondering what they would look like if ... So here they are with lines, although still without any pattern on the background, and that, I think, is how they will stay.

Going Green

2011-03-26T03:41:00.000-07:00

23/03/2011

I'm out on the street painting again. It's been a while - must be almost 6 months, but the weather's fantastic and I've got a Wednesday free, so why not?

I go off piste so as not to attract too much attention with my bright green background. Despite this I spend the entire time trying to come up with a good response to the inevitable 'why are you painting on bright green' question. I need to be witty & cutting, yes, yes, & sound incredibly arty & clever. hmmm ... Yes, that's it! I've got it.

Apparently it's not so inevitable as no one asks me and I have to save my 'wouldn't you like to know' for another time.

I don't last long - I think painting is like gardening: take the winter off, then go out in spring & try digging the veg patch - your back is going to go ...

25/03/2011

I go outside again to finish the green painting. I start chatting with this guy who tells me about his 13 year old son who is having a one man show in Cardiff - they're saying he's like a young picasso (http://www.galleryoffthewall.com/hot-off-the-wall/circus-woman-p-972.html) and he shows me images on his phone. Wow 13! When I was 13 I was only doing pencil sketches of women in nudey mags, but maybe the less said about that, the better.

Interlude

2011-03-19T08:34:00.000-07:00

I'm still busy posting pics with my portrait painting pals over on pre-faces, but in the mean time I am trying to push the landscapes slowly forward:

I don't know what's going wrong, but I can't seem to get rid of these streaks that keep appearing on the background. Another coat maybe? This one has already had five ...

And as a bit of light relief, check out the new yetispaghetti theme song:

Old(ish) Stuff

2011-02-20T05:13:00.001-08:00

It's a slow blog week, cos I'm working on a body of portraits that I'm posting on a group blog over at pre-faces.blogspot.com so here's a couple of recent commissions:

and some more sketches of Jeffrey Archer. Why oh why oh why ...

I think I almost got him in that last one.

WIP?

2011-02-10T10:28:00.001-08:00

I think it's finished ...

& I planned to do a frame and patterns all over the background of these ones, but I quite like them as they are:

It's Venice Jim, but not as you know it. Ha ha - shame about the rubbish photography.

The Bunny Shot

2011-02-03T12:47:00.000-08:00

Sorry, rubbish pun (although I'm secretly quite pleased with it (not so secret now)), but hey look, here's the last one:

and when you put them all together - WOO HOO!:

hmm, well maybe in a different order:

or like this ...

...

Dogboy

2011-01-29T09:23:00.001-08:00

On occasion I have been known to scribble a quick kiddy story, so why not put them on a website? Why not indeed:

www.yetispaghetti.me.uk

Bunny No. 3

Oh poor bunny number 3 with his plain background, just a filler, third in a series, will anybody ever want him? ...

nmaD

2011-01-22T05:09:00.000-08:00

nmaD, nmaD, nmaD, nmaD. I take it all back, it's not quite the total disaster I was thinking it would be. I've painted the lines grey (which I always thought I might have to) and outlined the white heads and praise be, I can live with it again.

Also managed to finish another new exciting wallpaper landscape (this time with broken cowboy doll - yeehaw! cos that's what they say, although being as this is the lone ranger that's very wrong)

Damn

2011-01-15T08:27:00.000-08:00

Damn, damn, damn, damn damn. You start these things, you get all excited and then you put the background colour on and it all goes wrong. I like the figures, I like the pink and I like the guy with the glasses, but the 6 white heads aren't working for me. I'm going to have to redo them or paint them out or something ... Damn.

On a brighter note here's my video I posted ages ago on you-tube which I've figured out how to embed. (Not rocket science I know, but little steps - I'm psyching myself up to do the twitter thing again, but maybe it's too soon.)

Carpe Diem

2011-01-07T09:58:00.000-08:00

2011 - oo yes it's gonna be big.

Enough of Jeffery Archer (for now). Here's something a bit more interesting:

And the work in progress is still progressing. It's getting to the exciting bit:

What colour will the background be? Oo I can't wait ...

Find out in next week's thrilling episode.

As someone said to me as I gloomily looked forward at 2011:

"Attack the day"

Raaarghh!

Christmas parties

2010-12-19T02:17:00.000-08:00

Two in a row was always going to be tough.

I get through Thursday night okay by leaving early, but Friday it all goes Pete Tong:

I loose my bow tie
I spill red wine all down my shirt (dancing while drinking never works)
I do okay on the bucking reindeer
I hog the karaoke microphone and murder Queen, Elton John, Abba ... and the list goes on
I round it all off by asking the taxi driver if I can paint his portrait.

Oh dear.

On the plus side ....

here's some sketches purporting to be of Jeffrey Archer.

I just can't seem to get the likeness right, so here's a sketch of Casares in Spain that I do like:

And now for something completely different ...

2010-12-11T03:24:00.000-08:00

Well, a bit different anyway.

Day Three

2010-12-09T14:55:00.000-08:00

Who's idea was this? Oh, yes, ... mine.

Was it such a bad one? Where did it all go wrong? Maybe I should have taken more care in drawing the booth:

- it did sort of go wonkey. Maybe people thought they'd get a wonkey head picture or something - as if...

Live & learn. No paying trade, but here's a couple of willing assistants that helped while away the time:

Day Two

2010-12-05T02:24:00.000-08:00

You want day two?

You Want Day Two?!!

YOU CAN'T HANDLE DAY TWO!!!

It was that bad, but at least I had a chair to draw ..

And another one for the animal lovers:

Day One

2010-12-04T09:31:00.000-08:00

It could have gone worse, I mean it's not as if I stood like a lemon in a stupid outfit for three hours without selling anything. Oh no, wait ...

It's bound to get better over the weekend - I mean you can understand that Friday night was always going to be a bit slow, but the weekend, yeah, they'll be queuing round the block ...

And at least England are stuffing the Aussies in the cricket.

Here's some more warm up stuff:

And one for the animal lovers:

Warming up

2010-11-28T01:46:00.000-08:00

That's me, I mean, getting ready for next week - not the weather.

I'm still sketching anyone who'll sit still at work:

Oh and another painting:

And the work in progress is looking interesting:

Sketch Madness

2010-11-20T06:22:00.000-08:00

Why do I do these things?

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Check it out ...

Nothing wrong with that, but I've only gone and volunteered to dress up as a butcher/deli man/supermarket person and do on the spot portrait sketches for the duration of the show - "Ben's Portrait Sketch Booth".

Now it's coming to the crunch, I find myself in dire need of some practice and hence roping in any/every one at work to model ...

How bad can it be?

Yeah, thought so ...

Ketchup the Third

2010-11-08T10:58:00.000-08:00

It's been a while and apologies for that, but I'm still kicking. A couple of recent paintings with the promise of less of gap until the next post ...

More Ketchup

2010-08-04T10:56:00.000-07:00

From a relaxing trip to see my brother in Wales:

And other stuff I've done recently

Ketchup

2010-06-20T07:18:00.000-07:00

Okay, so the blog has died a death. Like I said, BORN LAZY. But that's no reason why I can't just post images of paintings as and when. So herewith a bit of a katchup:

Outside Jamie's

2010-04-17T06:03:00.000-07:00

Okay, okay

2010-03-27T04:00:00.000-07:00

To Boldly Go

2010-03-14T13:29:00.000-07:00

241

2010-03-07T06:50:00.001-08:00

Still a blog behind

2010-02-27T03:42:00.000-08:00

A Blog Behind

2010-02-20T06:54:00.001-08:00

Squelchy

2010-02-06T06:45:00.000-08:00

The Dan Plan comes together

2010-01-31T03:35:00.000-08:00

Out of focus

2010-01-23T08:44:00.000-08:00

Do a backup you eejit

2010-01-09T07:45:00.000-08:00

The Dan Plan

2009-12-30T03:54:00.000-08:00

The Perils of Post Party Pressie Purchasing

2009-12-22T08:24:00.000-08:00

Piece of plastic, bit of wall

2009-12-17T01:27:00.000-08:00

Old Stuff

2009-12-11T13:07:00.000-08:00

Nice Easel

2009-12-02T12:46:00.000-08:00

Another blog book

2009-11-24T12:11:00.000-08:00

A little book

2009-11-15T04:26:00.000-08:00

And now for the fag ends

2009-11-08T12:16:00.000-08:00

Thursday 05/11/2009

It's not a bad day so I can finish the yellow line painting and put the fag ends in.

So I do.

Being as it's a back alley by the studios where people come for a cigarette, not much happens.

Later in the studios I get carried away and write on it small at first and then bigger. It's taking a while, but I think I'm finally starting to loosen up with the words thing, although I guess they could still me more readable. To make up for the lack of action I am including 3 (yes 3! count them) photos of the same painting.

Also in the studios I go to the loo, because of course this is real life and that's what people do. In the movie of my life I think there will be lots of going to the loo - at least every other scene. And when anyone goes out someone will say, 'does anyone need the loo before we go?' and someone will and they'll go. And farting. In the movie of my life there will be lots of farting. Not necessarily always me.

Anyway, where was I? Going to the loo at the studios. So there I am, in the loo that I've been going in for 5 years, but this time it's different. This time there's a smell. Not a bad smell, but one of those smells that evokes a really strong memory and I'm six or seven years old again and I'm in the cloakroom at my Gran's house. It's a big downstairs loo and I'm lost in the mass of coats that hang on the wall. It's a little bit scary (still me as a 6/7 year old), but kind of comforting at the same time. I love it when that happens - transported by a smell.

Talking of being young, I was reminded the other day that I had never ever in my life eaten a toffee apple. It went straight on to the list of things I have to do before I die and so I ate one and hated it and can't think why anyone would do that to an apple.

The Curse of the Berry

2009-11-01T02:17:00.000-08:00

Thursday 29/10/09

I end up at the studios playing about with last weeks painting of the railway bridge. It wasn't much to write home about anyway, so it won't be a problem if I mess it up. I try a different way of achieving a similar effect on the edges that involves layers of paint and then drawing into the paint with the pencil. It sort of works and it sort of doesn't, but I like the feel of the pencil lines better - they become more integral to the painting. I also break up the words I wrote on it last week and scatter them about the picture. Hmm.

Later and I get inspired by a yellow line and a bunch of fag ends (fag ends to come). I keep going until it gets too dark. Ray's grinding a bit of stone down by the garages, annoying the neighbours. A horse goes past on the main road. The fire alarm goes off (I'm already outside, so I can just keep painting). I make a note of the noises, as I might write the sound effects on later.

Friday 30/10/09

I'm walking to the studios and I know it's not going to go to plan when walking under a tree laden with berries, one of them gets caught by a gust of wind and falls on me. It finds the slightest of openings around my collar and it's straight down the shirt. Oh yes - now that is a sign. Doomed I say, DOOOOMED. After putting everything down and untucking and jiggling (next to the busy road) out pops the berry and I move on.

Aha, there it is, just ahead - the sainsbury's petrol station sign. Just as I left it last week. Now we're talking. (Exciting compositions - that's what we're talking.)

I set up across the way so I can see the sign across the busy (busiest in bath, according to an in depth study conducted by me just now) junction. There's a little patch of grass covered in leaves, which I try to avoid as you can bet your bottom there's a pooh lurking under there somewhere.

So there I am, all set up, looking to paint the sainsbury's petrol station sign, when whammo, the curse of the berry strikes and my paint medium disappears. Totally disappeared as if I forgot to put it in the easel, which is inconceivable. Damn that berry.

Ignominiously I pack everything up and slink off to the studios. The petrol station sign will have to wait for another week. (I'm pretty sure it's waited its whole life to be painted, so what's another week?)

Back at the studio, I did mean to put in the fag ends, but the lines take longer than I thought they would. Lines, Ben? What lines? Well, these lines of course ...

P.S. The left handed line drawings still aren't showing much sign of improvement. Damn, but I'm looking miserable.

On the way to the studio

2009-10-25T02:54:00.000-07:00

Friday 23/10/09

I like this. It's the new routine. On Thursdays I drive to the studios and at the end of the day bring home my portable box easel and a board to paint on. On Fridays I walk to the studios with the easel and board and do a painting on the way. This leaves me with a painting of a crunchy part of Bath together with no car on a Friday afternoon with drinks in the offing - it's a win win situation.

This week on my Friday walk to the studios finds me trying to be all William Wrayesque next to a railway bridge (still yellow lines in the composition, but not that dominant). I try and make something of the colours as I find them (apart from the green - dangerous colour, green) without losing sight of the fact that it's a grey miserable day and is never going to be anything but.

It's all students and bendy buses around here, but I ignore them in my painting just as they ignore me. One conversation of note:

Old lady: Can I have a look?

Me: Of course.

OL: That's an unusual subject to paint.

Me: It's early days.

OL: I wish I could paint like that.

Me: Well, it's not much at the moment, but we'll see.

OL: Can I leave you with these copies of our Watchtower magazine?

!!Nobbled!!

The painting isn't finished (I know it sounds a bit like and excuse, but it's true). I need to wait until it dries to go back over and emphasise the light in the distance on the road and the car showroom - and then, oh yes, and then ... you'll see ... you'll all see ... BWAHAHAHA ...

That left hand, right hand thing

2009-10-18T04:38:00.000-07:00

Thursday 15/10/09

Line drawings again with the left hand - can't see any vast improvement yet. Plan schman - I've probably over egged it a bit. 'Plan' implies something grand and well thought out. This, on the other hand, is not that. Self portraits - who knows why? - have their own particular difficulties, not least of which is how to paint your painting hand. In my case this is my right hand and in my latest self portrait (again - who knows why?) it features pretty heavily in the foreground. See work in progress below. So I figure, what the heck, let's paint the offending right hand with my left hand and see how it goes. So far so good and in actual fact it turns out slightly easier than painting standing on one leg in a crouching position. (again - don't ask me). Yes, the sandal does keep falling off, but obviously I couldn't wear shoes as that would have hidden my toes (probably my best feature).

Friday 16/10/09

Swings and roundabouts. One minute you're up because you almost win the Bath Prize and you sell a big painting and the next minute you're down because the gallery says it can't sell your paintings and doesn't want to show them any more. Tourists want tourist pictures of bath apparently. With this in mind I resolve to paint a couple of blue garages - just cos. It doesn't come out too badly although I don't think it's quite finished yet. I write on it, 'no one knew'.

A Sad Tale

2009-10-11T02:30:00.000-07:00

Thursday 08/10/09

This is it. It's sunny. Time to finish the yellow line. So I do and I think it's okay.

Later and I'm sitting in the studio looking at it and I get inspired and title it 'the end of the line' which I then write on it. More looking and then I go and get this idea of blocking in the bottom left hand corner all the way to the edge to emphasise the geometry of the composition. This I then do, painting over my title and other pencil marks, only to find it was a rubbish idea. I rub it all off and then try painting all the edges and then I rub this off and try again and again and it's all rubbish and in the end I get out the white spirit and rub everything back as well as I can to the white ground. Why didn't I leave it well alone? I settle for a thin green line of moss running to the edge and write the title on again. It looks to me like a dandelion seed head. Hmmmph.

Afternoon and it's still sunny so I wander up to the Marlborough tavern to finish 'STOP' (see how I've subtly titled it). The smells that dogged me last week are no more and it is a perfect day to paint. The main reaction to the picture seems to be surprise that anyone would choose to paint the view. I deliberately don't paint any traffic on what is one of the busiest junctions in Bath (according to a totally unbias survey carried out by me where I sample only me). One old lady asks, "Peter?" She obviously doesn't need to add a surname. She continues to explain that she used to see Pete painting around a bit and always wanted to take his photo, but never did and now she can't remember what he looks like. It's a sad tale, the obvious happy ending to which would be a realisation that I, yes I, could be the subject of such a photo (seeing as she doesn't actually know what Pete looks like) and her album (nay her life!) would be complete. But, no. She has no intention of whipping out her camera. Instead and, for some reason unbeknownst to me it's the 1st thing that springs to mind when confronted with obvious differences in appearance between me and the brown meister, I respond, "he's got more hair than me." What?! I'm wearing a hat for crying out loud. Why do I feel the need to burden her with this information? Oh yes, let's announce all my complexes to the world - tell her about my nose being much bigger. I might as well go on and explain the difference in our willy sizes. But of course I don't. Pete (and for that matter me) has never been known to paint with his willy hanging out as an aid to recognition. Where am I going with this?

Anyway, I like the painting.

Friday 09/10/09

Full on studio day as I try and paint two pictures of Venice. It's hard going, but I pretty well get there. I'm not sure either of them are finished, but they reach a stage where I think you can see how they are going to come out.

P.S. The astute among you will notice a subtle variation in the line drawings. Naturally you might assume that I have again been drinking prior to scrawling and this is probably true, but most of the variation is due to doing them with my left hand. Why oh why would I want to do such a thing? It's all part of a plan ....

Cheese and Pickle

2009-10-03T03:50:00.000-07:00

Thursday 01/10/09

Didn't get much sleep again. No weird dreams to report, must be work stuff nagging me or maybe I'm getting worked up about the bath prize. Mistake - got to be laid back about these things, we've been here before.

It's lunch time and I'm sitting in the common room at the studios eating my cheese and pickle sandwich. I look down at the dry brown bread in my hand with distaste and I suddenly realise that I'm bored of cheese and pickle. I force the last of it down regardless, before setting out to paint.

I walk up to the Royal Crescent. There are lots of exciting yellow lines to paint, but it's all too obvious and would say something that I don't intend. Further on and after a good deal of deliberation I set up outside the Marlborough Tavern to paint Julian Road. It's a perfect spot - lots of yellow line action and a big STOP in the foreground. At least it would have been the perfect spot if it wasn't for the wafting aromas - cooking followed by pooh followed by cooking followed by pooh. It's not good and the cheese and pickle is coming back to haunt me.

I balls up the yellow lines and writing in the foreground, but it's okay as I can sort them next time. I leave out the blue sky - ha - no blue for me in my gritty urban landscapes. Grey a plenty though in the vari-coloured roadsurface.

A young woman has a nosey at what I'm painting, she says something, but that's not the point. To speak she has to take out this dummy that she's sucking. I don't know and I don't ask and it doesn't help my nausea. I can't take it any more and I pack up.

Later and it dawns on me that it is the 1st October. Ten years to the day that I started painting. Ten years. That's a lot of paintings. That is also a lot of cheese and pickle sandwiches.

Friday 02/10/2009

The sun comes out briefly in the morning and I get a bit more of my yellow line painting done (still not finished).

I resort to finishing the Sydney Buildings painting in the studio - messing about with the road until I'm happy with it.

Despite myself I start to look forward to the announcement of the winner for the Bath Prize tonight. I must Be Cool. I must not Be Drunk.

Later and I'm shaking the mayor's hand as we pose for photographs, because cor blimey guv, I've only gone and won second prize, and he turns to me and says, "Why did you choose to paint Southgate?" .....

I gently point out that we didn't have a choice of location and that was the point of the competition. Reminder of what it looks like:

Later still and I've had a few too many to drink (but it's okay because it's after the event) and I remember that I haven't done my self portrait line drawing. I do it and it's a bit wobbly, but then again, so am I.

P.S. One more (and probably the last) Thailand painting:

Mental

2009-09-26T06:16:00.000-07:00

Thursday 24/09/09

"That's mental!" exclaims a young man.

"F**k that, man!" exclaims another younger man. (Comma very important.) The other kids he is with laugh, so he swears loudly again.

Both meant in a good way. Or at least that's what I thought at the time. Reading it cold, though, gives me doubts.

Someone mentions that my picture is in the local paper, so later, I can't resist and I pick up a copy. It's an article about THE bath prize. It's good to be included in the pre show publicity (announcement of winner next week), but the write up doesn't give me hope. It's all about the wonderful sights of Bath and look some artist has painting Pulteney Bridge and another has painted the Abbey. Oh yes and another has done Lansdown Crescent and there's a view of the classic georgian terraces of Camden. And what's this one at the bottom - ah, yes, some eejit has painted some plastic barriers next to the southgate shopping centre - sure fire winner.

Friday 25/09/09

I've lost all control and given myself over totally to the yellow line thing.

Probably doesn't need me to say anything.

Probably best not to - only going to dig myself in deeper.

Apart from, 'it's not finished yet.'

But that just sounds like an excuse.

Ah well.

Are you having fun?

2009-09-20T02:08:00.000-07:00

Thursday 17/09/09

It's sunny and I can finish off the 1st yellow line painting. I put some dark lines on the edge because I haven't got my pencil with me, but I'm not sure I like them. I leave them on anyway.

Later, I set off into town determined to paint the Abbey - afternoon sun on the face of the building, lots of people milling about in front, should be great - but for some reason I never get there.

Painting the bizarre and unexpected is more nerve racking than a busy city street. There's the constant look of puzzlement on the face of passersby and the pressure to justify the subject. I stick to the tried and tested defence of not making eye contact. My angles are all over the place and I know I'm not going to finish the painting today. I leave before the hordes of school children come by - I'm not ready for that yet.

I'm walking back to the studio and a girl (12?) at the bus stop who passed me when I was painting. She says, "Excuse me [polite!], are you an artist?"

I don't think she's really wanting to get into a debate about what is art and who am I to call myself an artist, so, "Yes," I reply, "I am an artist." But it has a hollow ring to it and the words feel odd coming from my mouth.

Friday 18/09/09

I'm dreaming. I'm on a plane. It looks like 1st class because there's loads of space and the seats are all big and comfy. There are lots of people I know, but I can't sit down because they can't make up their minds where they are going to sit and keep changing seats. I feel something under my skin above my appendix scar, it grows and pushes through the surface. It's a seed, like a cardamon pod. It sticks up annoyingly and then others grow up along side it. I brush it away and the pod gently pops and reveals a cottony inside before falling away. It is soon replaced and before long my stomach is like a small field of these things. I keep picking and brushing them off, but they keep growing. There's no panic in my actions, but I wake up anyway and don't get much sleep for the rest of the night.

I walk to the studio with my easel and board. It's a fair old hike lugging the paraphenalia so I've got to make it worth the effort with a painting. I'm thinking of painting the walkway under the railway line, but when I get there it doesn't work for me. The view at right angles to it, though, is just what I need (including the yellow lines). I stand there for about 10 minutes undecided. As yesterday, I'm feeling a bit of pressure in setting up and painting a bizarre place and I need to pysche myself up. Just standing there gets me enough funny looks, so what the hell and I go for it anyway.

The mechanic comes out of the garage. "Are you having fun?" he asks sarcastically.

"Yes, yes I'm having fun," I lie.

The painting seems to go okay. I take a photo just in case I don't finish it because the cars won't be in the same place again, but I'm not sure I'm going to need it. I can hear the radio playing in the garage. I don't know what station it is, but they're playing 'Rio' by Duran Duran.

A lady comes up and peers around the easel. "Ah!" she says, "I know your work, but I don't know you."

Foolishly, I take this as a sign that she maybe want's to make conversation, so she can know me as well as my work and say, "Hi!' to her. But, no. She turns around and walks off without another word.

Hey lady! I like it!

I pack up, but not before Spandau Ballet singing 'Gold', starts floating from the open garage doors behind me. What is that radio station and why are they still on air?

And another Thailand painting for good measure:

Of lines, madness and the colour yellow

2009-09-13T01:26:00.000-07:00

Thursday 10/09/09

It's perfect weather - finally. It is 5th time almost lucky. 'Almost', because the builders and their vans continue to come and go and park in my way.

I leave out the wires and the parking sign.

Is it finished? Maybe.

Later and it's still sunny, so I can try and finish the other commission. It too is pretty much there - no fuss, no drama, it just reaches the end.

Friday 11/09/09

The sun is still shining (!!) and what with the commissions almost done I can get into town and paint. I'm taking in a different size board (16" x 16") than usual to see if the rough edge thing works on a smaller scale. I have no idea what I am going to paint which is never a good thing. I walk up to the Royal Crescent, but I've painted it so many times before, I find myself totally uninspired.

Stopping for a bit I notice the yellow lines on Royal Avenue. [Cue light bulb]. Yellow lines! That's what I'll paint. [Distant screams from wife and bank manager]. There's the link with the pencil lines I'm scribbling on the pictures, there's a lot of William Wrayness about them, I really like the colour of them (that'll be yellow then) against the varying tones of the road and, best of all, they're everywhere!

I hurry back to the studio, remembering the yellow line there that I really liked. By the time I get there the shadows have moved from how I remember them, but it's still good so I get started.

I must not have cleaned my brushes properly last time, because they are all dry and scratchy. Annoyingly so. This gets me to a point where I can't finish the painting today. The jury maybe out on the whole yellow line lightening bolt of inspiration (too many metaphors?), but I'm not - it's a great idea. Ooh! I know where I'm going to paint next - it's a great yellow line - can't wait.

P.S. Here's some more of Thailand

Five Visits Ben

2009-09-06T01:47:00.000-07:00

Friday 04/09/2009

Let me burden you with my tale of woe and this doom laden painting.

It all started a few weeks ago when, whilst pretending to be ninja (yes I know - I've put it all behind me now), the heavens opened and the first session was a wash out. (This you will recall from previous blog.)

I sneak back to have another go and I think it went alright. But the whole road has this old camber thing going on and so I end up painting all the buildings leaning backwards. It's another write off.

3rd time lucky and last week I went down full of hope, the sun was shining and I was confident of rescuing the painting. I set up and was ready to go only to discover I hadn't brought any brushes with me. I managed to slink away without too many witnesses. 3rd time was not lucky at all.

So here I am again on my 4th visit with the painting still a long way from completion and what happens - there's a bloody great big builder's van in the way so I have to move positions. There's builders everywhere with multiple vehicles as they work away on what seems to be a whole row of houses on my right. I persevere - I'm here now and there is some sun and I do have some brushes.

One of the builders does some star jumps for me in the middle of the road. Which is nice. I think of something really witty to say, but not quick enough to deliver the pithy line before he's gone back into one of the houses and not really funny enough as evidenced by the fact that I'm not going to write it down here.

I hear a few snippets of conversation, "can't do any more here ...", "back on Monday ..." and maybe my lucks turning - they are doing what builder's do best and moving on to another job without finishing this one! Hurray! He moves the van and the road opens up a bit. I do make some progress!

The old camber thing still causes me problems, but the ones on the painting I can resolve - it's my back where it starts to tell. Standing on the angle for a couple of hours is as much as I can take and I call it a day. Five visits it is then.

Later and more angst ridden angsty angst as I grapple with my artistic dilemma over what I should be painting in the studio. I started a few more Thailand ones last week so I'm going to finish them off anyway and I'll deal with the artistic fall out later. Here's the one I did today:

Back to Basics

2009-08-30T01:58:00.000-07:00

Thursday 27/08/09

I've really got to re read my blogs - what was I thinking? I'm a ninja - I'm an olympic athlete - I'm a boxer!? What? Let's get real - I'm 42 years old, I walk into town, I paint and I tell a funny story (ha ha). That's it.

Back to basics.

There's a bit of sun and I've got the commission painting to finish so I walk into town (see told you) to set up by the abbey. I pass the Griffin Inn - it was a pretty grubby pub, nothing to write home about, but part of me can't help being sorry that it's had the pub makeover. You know the one - it's all polished wood, attractive staff and a high priced food menu now. (That wasn't the funny story - maybe it's coming next.)

I pass the Castle Galleries (boo hiss). I don't think much of it, but I look in the window at these paintings of beautiful people, semi naked and pouting and I think about the artist and I realise, 'he's just selling sex'. I move on to the paintings next to his and think, 'he's selling a story' and the one further on, 'he's just selling a joke'. They've all got a 'thing' that their art is geared around. What am I selling? A memory? An idea? If the answer is just 'a view' then something's wrong.

(okay so that wasn't funny either, but here it comes I can feel it ...)

I set up in the same position, but things have changed - the sun isn't getting up as high in the sky anymore and much of the foreground is in shadow (I'll have to work round that) and someone's gone and put flowers in hanging baskets everywhere. Pah. (I say 'someone' when obviously it's the council - grrrr - damn them and their mad council tax spending ways)

I get quite a few people looking at the painting. A chinese lady complements the painting and then says, 'Are you going to put the flowers in? They are so beautiful.' I control my response and don't say, 'No lady, I am NOT going to put the flowers in. Can't you see that my painting doesn't NEED any flowers in it?'

(damn - not funny either. Still, plenty of time left, maybe this is it ...)

More people look and I'm not even going to mention the PB question. The painting comes together and I'm feeling pretty pleased with it. I can't think of anything to write on it apart from the title, 'Waiting'.

On the way back I'm near the Griffin Inn again and despite their efforts to enhance the area there's a guy with blonde dreadlocks puking in the street. He's bent over, his left hand on his knee propping him up, while he uses the other to keep his long dreads away from the stream of vomit. Nice. (Yes, it is only 2 in the afternoon.) He's got a mate with him who is comforting him with the occasional pat on the back. He obviously needs no interference from me so I walk on by. I can't help but marvel at the particular shade of green.

(Was that the funny bit? Is that all? No wait there's more ...)

(Oh, no there isn't. So much for a funny bit.)

What am I selling?

In Training

2009-08-24T10:26:00.000-07:00

Friday 21/08/09

Been on holiday, so I'm behind on both the blog and more importantly the painting. I'm getting kind of twitchy cos painting is like anything - if you don't practise then not only are you not going to get any better, but you're going to get worse - think of it as being likely an olympic athlete cos it's just like that - honest.

So now I'm in London for a follow up holiday weekend at the in laws, but I can't leave it any longer and I've brought all my paint gear with me. I want to paint some more Thailand paintings because time is marching on and the whole series is taking forever. I've got to paint outside so that I don't get paint anywhere in the house.

There you have it. I'm in a back garden in Wembley painting a Thailand sunset.

The garden backs onto an Underground line (part of the overground Underground thing) so there are intermittent train rumblings.

There's a small child in the garden next door who insists on screaming. She's not in pain or anything - she obviously just likes screaming. Aaaaaarghh. Aaaaaaarghh. (Very high pitched.)

That's it then. In a back garden in Wembley with trains rumbling past, a little girl screaming, painting the perfect sunset.

Beyond the railway line is a big park and there's a fun fair set up so I get the sounds of the people and the rides drifting over. And the food ... mmmm burgers.

And the bugs - where do they come from? - they seem to like the colour of the painting.

That's the scene. In a back garden in deepest darkest Brent, with trains rumbling past, a little girl screaming (Aaaaaarghh. Aaaaaaarghh. Very high pitched.), all the fun of the fair, dive bombing bugs, painting a sunset in Thailand. Something just feels odd.

Saturday 22/08/09

Got Thailand out of the way for now, time to get back to the plein air thing. Definitely out of shape - think Chris Hoy not riding a bike for a month or two - so while the family visit Hampton Court I set up the other side of the Thames to paint.

I can't get a good angle - the square format works against me and I end up trying to fit the entire ornate palace into a couple square inches. Combine this with the lack of sun and I'm on to a loser. Luckily no one comes by - the fishermen and the campers (not sure where they go to the toilet) on the river bank don't bother me and I blank anyone on a boat.

Damn, damn it just keeps getting worse. I try a few feeble pencil marks, but it doesn't help.

I pack up in disgust.

Sunday 23/08/09

Forget about Chris Hoy, I'm a boxer - you're only as good as your last fight - and I got pasted in the first round yesterday. I've got to get back in the ring - I can't let the last painting just sit there as the pinnacle of my artistic career, it'll eat me up like a canker unless I can expunge it with a masterpiece.

All panicky I look round my father-in-law's garden (still in London). [Aside - what's happening to me? It's a beautiful sunny day - I could drive into the centre and paint any number of magnificent architectural monuments. Surely that's what I should do.]

Bizarrely I settle on an old jar with long since dried orange paint and a couple of encrusted paint brushes. (Bob and weave, bob and weave.)

You know the set up: In a back garden in Wembley, trains rumbling past, little girl screaming (Not so often, but still going. Aaaaaaarghh. Aaaaaaarghh. Very high pitched.), all the fun of the fair and dive bombing bugs. Add to this the searing heat, a perfect blue sky and me painting an old jar - something still feels odd. (Bob and weave, bob and weave.)

A jar, yeah, great idea - lets try a series of perfect circles (Whump! a punch to the head), all neatly aligned (Grunch! a blow to the ribs), overlapping (Whap! a jab to the face) and see through (Whammo - that's it. Cut to slow mo shot of head swivelling, lips swollen and askew as gum shield, spit and blood arc over the ropes. I hit the deck like an easel with two legs and the crowd sits there in stunned silence - could this be the end?)

Maybe it's not that bad. If I squint my eyes I almost quite like it and that's okay isn't it.

Isn't it?

(The flies - don't forget all the dead flies in the bottom of the jar. Maybe I made it to round 2.)

I am ninja

2009-08-01T08:00:00.000-07:00

Thursday 30/07/09

a.m.

It's raining, it's sunny, it's raining, it's sunny.

I need to be a one man tactical painting assault team. Get in, do the job and get out, never leaving a man behind.

I've got the wet weather gear. I'm set up. There's a big white van right in the middle of the view I want to paint, but WHA! WHA! I am ninja and I strike like the lightning and paint round bends, WHA! WHA!

The rain starts, but look at me, I am ninja and I dodge the rain drops, WHA! WHA! The rain keeps coming and WHA! WHA! I keep dodging, but the rain keeps getting heavier and wha wha whaddayaknow, it's p*****g down and I'm soaked and everything's soaked and the wet weather gear can't cope cos it's too torrential and you know the workers sitting in the van are having a good old laugh and I give up even though I've only just started the painting.

Helluva summer.

p.m.

Someone somewhere figures that they've had enough weather fun for the day and the afternoon/evening proves to be a good (relatively speaking) one, so I can start the commission down the road from our house.

It's a difficult composition and I'm standing a bit awkwardly, but for a first session it seems to be going okay and I get to know a few of the neighbours.

Friday 31/07/09

Pulled something in my back yesterday putting out the rubbish (oo, I am so ninja) so I'm walking a bit strangely today. I haven't done many out and about drawings recently so I stop by this house on the way to the studio. It's recently been done up and I think it looks great - like a georgian norman bates motel. Shame the surroundings detract slightly, but I just ignore that. I think it would make a good painting, but I have to stand in the drive way so I'll settle for drawing it. I take my time too, to do it justice. There's no sign of life - I guess it's residential as there are no adverts and it's so big that it's probably more than one, but no one stirs. The net curtains don't twitch and no one bothers me as I stand leaning against a gate pillar - maybe I could have painted it.

Later, still walking to the studio, through the busy crowds of shoppers I cross Milsom Street. I trip over something, catch myself before I fall and walk on pretending that nothing happened (you know, you've been there - heh heh, yeah did it on purpose, but really, I am cool, no really).

Oh yes, definitely ninja.

Good News, Bad News

2009-07-25T08:04:00.000-07:00

Thursday 23/07/09

Bath Art Fair - despite being for charity, it's got a bad rep - there's no selection policy and the hanging is rubbish so it looks like a jumble sale (I've never seen it - just what I've been told). Anyway, this year thought I'd give it a go and put one painting in - just to see. That was last week and today I wander down to Queen Square to have a look at the show.

I get there only to find the square empty - the marquee that was the art fair has gone and it's as if it had never been. Hang on ... What? Oh no - think I might have screwed up.

I get home to find the bumff - how could I not have noticed that the fair was only on for three days? And, what's this, storage of uncollected paintings is charged at £10/day - that's £40 I've got to pay for the privilege of having my picture badly hung in a tent. Damn! Damn! Double damn! And get this - I phone up to arrange collection and they can't now find my painting and can they get back to me tomorrow!! £50 - you've got to be kidding me.

I spend the night cursing and stewing, stewing and cursing. The end of July and the biannual tax bill is fast approaching and I've just thrown away £40. AAAARGHH £10/day - it's outrageous. Oooo I'm livid.

I don't tell Yolanda.

Friday 24/07/09

They don't phone me back and I build up a head of steam over the storage charge - I didn't get where I am today by paying £10/day storage. Grrrr.

I phone, she's been busy, can she call me back. Grrrr.

Yes? What? You've sold it?! Wahey!

It's too late now, I've been building up for too long and despite no longer being faced with the storage charge I feel the need to vent. It's then that the lady explains that they are a charity with only a small office and before they had the charge, hundreds of paintings would get left uncollected. Oh well, yes, of course I understand and anyway thanks for selling it ... er ... goodbye.

Back to normal Friday prattling - the weather isn't working for me so I cheat and paint a bit of the Southgate painting in the studio - going for the luminous green of the builders' vests. I do some pencil marks on it. Shall I write on it? What should I say? I um and ah for a bit before writing the title in the bottom left corner - Under Construction. I um and ah a bit more before adding quotation marks. For some reason, it makes a difference and then I don't like them, but it's too late, they'll have to stay.

Is it finished?

Not sure.

Is it going to win?

Who knows?

And, just so you don't think I'm not doing much of anything, here are the 1st three Thailand paintings.

Wet and Wobbly

2009-07-18T03:56:00.000-07:00

Thursday 16/07/09

Yeah, see, I thought if I did these line drawings enough I'd sort of start getting better. Some hope.

Friday 17/07/09

Had a first go on Wii Fit the other day (if you haven't you should cos it's good - subject to the following reservations on its ability to add up). It's the art of wobbling (or not) about on a board and with a confidence borne of knowing my bmi as independently verified and certificated by the BIOBANK I confidently took to the board and wobbled (or not) in front of a crowd of partisan family members. Oh the shame, oh the travesty, oh the ridicule by said formerly supportive crowd as the software churns out a 'Wii fit age' of 52!! Pah! What's the good in wobbling (or not) on a board anyway?! Surely it's much better to play 5-aside football in the pouring rain in a butch and hearty kind of way?

Maybe the board knows more than I think as after the 15 min wobble work out I was already feeling some sort of burn (maybe it was just wind) and after football yesterday I'm once again walking into town to paint with legs all stiff and achy (at least we won).

It's grey and miserable (the weather, the painting and the artist all combining in a symphony of grey and miserableness). I've got the wet weather gear incorporating my dad's old raincoat that he generously donated to the cause. It's green and combined with the brown trousers and the white tilley hat I think I'm looking explorer like, but probably not the good guy as I don't look cool enough - in an Indiana Jones type movie, you'd be thinking I'm going to bite the bullet before the end - maybe when the rope bridge gets cut, or the truck explodes, or ... anyway ... where was I ...

Back to this painful painting and the weather. It's been so long since I started the thing that the shop is no longer empty and is busy trying to flog overpriced rustic design against the tide of recession - we'll see, but I'm not holding my breath. I try painting from a different spot to avoid blocking the window, but it's no good, so I move back and try to nestle between the gift shop and the curry house next door which sort of works.

It starts to rain, good and proper, but with the wet weather gear I can keep going for a while - I get soaked, but the painting moves forward. I can't believe I got all my angles so wrong and I end up repainting most of it - it's still not right, but it's getting better.

The zip doesn't work properly on the coat - aha! that's why he palmed it off on me - and it smells of my dad, which isn't a bad thing - it's not stinky or anything - it's just one of those smells of home that take you back to your childhood, probably emphasised by the wetness of it all. It's all slightly surreal - standing painting in the pouring rain, smelling of my dad.

Slow Blog Day

2009-07-11T06:34:00.000-07:00

Thursday 09/07/09

Nothing to show for my work today - it's all prep for future paintings and other boring studio stuff - but for the sake of something to post and because I blogged about them way back, I can put up the images of the paintings I did for the commission of Prior Park college. The gift has been given and there's no more secrecy:

Oh yeah, guess what else? Last night I had a dream in which I had a hair growing on (not in) my ear that was over two metres long and dangled behind me trailing on the floor. I was not very happy with any of my family for not telling me and it proved very difficult to cut off. When I finally got the bugger and it lay on the floor it turned out to be not one hair, but a whole damn bunch of them - all of which had been sprouting off my ear.

Slow blog day or what?!

Friday 10/07/09

A bit of brightness in the morning and I can work on the down town Southgate painting. It's still a struggle with so much going on and a long list of issues:

They've moved the orange barriers along slightly;
I haven't got a green paint that can capture the flourescent jackets the builders are wearing;
The dumper truck is no longer in position, replaced by a big green digger;
I need something on the left of the picture - I had toyed with a big bus, but in the end chicken out and put a car in;
Someone kicks the easel, but that probably goes without saying (that along with the PB question which I haven't listed, but have ended up mentioning again anyway - duh!). If I've learnt one thing painting on the streets, it's that no matter where you place the easel or how wide the pavement, someone will kick it. It's an unwritten law of plein aire painting or something.

That old self doubt thing

2009-07-04T07:11:00.000-07:00

Wednesday 01/07/09

Chucked out of the Threadneedle Prize and with paintings not selling on the gallery wall and whaddayano - whammo - Doubt creeps up on me and slaps me in the mush. Good old Doubt - you know you can count on him. Why did I even write that on the painting? What's with that rubbishy edge thing? That old Doubt - he know's all the right questions to stick the knife in.

So, on Sunday, it was the big reveal for THE BATH PRIZE (where the organisers tell you which bit of Bath you've got to paint for the competition). Now, bearing in mind the blurb ("designed to stimulate new work celebrating the glory of a World Heritage City") I'm expecting Pulteney Bridge maybe, or the Royal Crescent, or maybe just somewhere where a tourist would choose to go. HA! No, my designated painting assignment is ... wait for it ... Southgate Shopping Centre!?!?

What? But I thought ... but, ...

Still, I have to laugh - I don't mind the subject - it's an opportunity to get all WW, but all the same, it's a bit of a curve ball.

So, Southgate Shopping Centre and Doubt - a pretty heady cocktail. I spend the afternoon prepping the board, (so there's no painting to post) with the big D gnawing away at me.

In the evening it's the fabled Brain of Bath quiz and I'm on one of the teams. Get that. I don't answer many questions, but I do learn some stuff. Not least of all is the fact that the memory doesn't function better on beer and the last few rounds I'm a definite liability. I still can't believe I got Thin Lizzy and Led Zepplin muddled up. Damn - once that bugger Doubt starts messing with you.

Thursday 02/07/09

I wake up in a blinding light of revelation. I've sweated out the big D in a fever of humidity and tangled sheets and it all becomes so obvious. The Southgate Shopping Centre. The big unfinished building site at the bottom of town - it's perfect for the unfinished painting look. Finished on one side and getting lost in nothingness (or maybe a few pencil lines) on the left. Can you see it? Can you see what I did there?

Also - good things about the place I am painting:

Shadey (again);
Only one person asks me if I'm Peter Brown;
A little girl peers around the pillar I'm standing next to and asks me lots of painting questions: do you paint the buildings? do you paint everything? they can be tricksey can't they? I have to stop painting and lean down to talk to her, but she's sweet and I make the effort. Her mum comes out of the bus station and the girl says, 'look mummy a painter', but mummy's got other things on her mind and drags her away.
A guy comes up and says he is the project manager for the development and that they might be interested in the painting. He even gives me a card. The developers are called 'Multi'. I've painted a lot of pictures in Bath, but it takes a painting of Southgate Shopping Centre to get my best lead on a sale - go figure. Let's hope the Man from Multi, he say yeah.

Bad things:

Can't stand exactly where I want without constantly opening the automatic door to the bus station behind me;
It's a long way from the Studio so it's quite a hike to get here;
A group of builders start talking to me, just as I get some sweat in my eyes. With both my hands full I can't do anything about it. They're asking me questions and I'm trying to answer, but I can't really think about anything other than the fact that I look like I'm crying.

Friday 03/07/09

It's windy today, which makes me Mr Grumpy from Grumpleton. I don't seem to move the painting on very much which makes me even more sour. I don't make eye contact with anyone. I didn't get where I am today by making eye contact with anyone.

Highs and Lows

2009-06-28T04:25:00.000-07:00

Wednesday 24/06/09

Had a meeting booked in for Thursday so swapped Thursday for Wednesday. Meeting got cancelled, but forecast for Wednesday is sunny so I don't swap them back. It all makes perfect sense. So here I am on a Wednesday starting the commission I mentioned a week or so back.

Good things about the spot I am standing on:

I have my back to the Abbey and I'm by some railings so no one can stand or walk behind me.
There's a BT van next to me so it makes it even harder for people to come and peer at what I'm doing. (Obviously some do and when a large tour party walks past, there is no escaping them.)
I'm in the shade of the abbey.
It's a great view - I like it!

Bad things about the spot I am standing on:

The tour bus parks in front of me.
Another tour bus parks in front of me.
Another tour bus ....

Still, it's not a surprise as I knew they would, I just didn't realise it would be this annoying.

On the way back to the studios I see someone with some really green shoes. I don't know why they strike me, but she must really like them as they don't go with anything else she's wearing. Dangerous colour, green.

And also there's a man with a really hairy neck. He's topless so I know he hasn't got a hairy back (or head), but the neck - wow. Of course it could be a tattoo - who knows? Who cares?

Thursday 25/06/09

Friday 26/06/09

Woohoo - my painting has been accepted for the prestigious Threadneedle Prize! Yippety Yay! I am so chuffed that I go and treat myself to painting more of the Upper Bristol Road (actually started last Friday, but it needs a bit of tweaking and it's too early to start drinking).

Ha ha - I fiff - Hee hee - I faff and then I give up as it really didn't take much to finish the painting and I'm too up to concentrate.

Walking back I read the following advert at the local car showroom:

'Once There

Gone There Gone'

It takes me a moment to decipher the spelling error - Ha ha! Hee hee! It makes me laugh.

I get back to the studios and check my emails for the confirmation of acceptance. What? It's still not there. I better just call and check.

My side of the conversation:

"Hello

Can I speak to someone about the Threadneedle Prize?

Just calling to check if I got in or not

Yes. Thanks

Ben Hughes

What's that?

I didn't get in?

But what about my registration number listed on the website as accepted?

What?

That's a different registration number? A different number that you haven't told me about and I couldn't possibly know?

How, what, why ...

ok ...

Yeah, thanks ... "

So there you have it - shafted by a bizarre admin system. Inevitably, I am not so chipper now.

P.S. The line drawing was done after discovering my error ...

The BIOBANK

2009-06-21T02:22:00.000-07:00

Wednesday 17/06/09

Woohoo - half day off - so let's ....

do another line drawing of myself ... (?)

Thursday 18/06/09

Still thinking about THE BATH PRIZE - had to submit the application form this week and within I had to write the dreaded 'Artist's Statement', the perennial and apparently necessary concoction of very long words that don't really go together in an attempt to justify the artwork whilst also making the artist sound really intelligent. I blathered on about why I write on the paintings to 'involve the viewer in the experience of the painting' (ha ha - pretty good huh?). It occurs to me now as I walk into town to set up that I am once again in a foul mood and the reality of being in my head in a 'Being John Malkovich' kind of stylee would not enhance anyone's viewing pleasure of the painting.

Grump grump. I can't finish the rubbish painting I started last week because the spot I was standing on is now the property of an even more grumpy than me shop front decorator.

Grump grump. I think about just going home and not bothering, but what the hell, let's go and paint Pulteney Bridge again.

The sun comes out and then goes in, comes out and then stays in. This suits me as I think I like the grey.

Another fly crashes into the painting, but this one is in trouble as he landed on a sticky bit and got his big skinny body all stuck. He struggles in vane to escape. Maybe my painting was so good that he thought he had loads of space before he would reach the bridge and then whammo! he's encased in titanium white.

WA HA HA! I am a cruel and pitiless god and I let him suffer. WA HA HA! And then I feel guilty so I flick him off with my brush, which doesn't really help him - he's too far gone - but at least I can finish the bit of painting he was on.

There's some of that green stuff again poking in on the right. Ha - not having any of that ruining my painting and I do it all greyish. A bit of yellow gets through relatively unmixed, but I leave it - kind of wild I know, but that's just the way I roll.

Friday 19/06/09

A couple of months ago I got a letter from a sinister covert government agency - The BIOBANK. (So, putting their details on the letter wasn't that covert, but it just shows how sinister they really are - clever maybe, but it didn't fool me). They wanted me (and half a million other people) to donate their bodies to medical research. (See - pretty sinister or what?). I quickly realised that the only way to burst this festering pustule of corruption wide open was from the inside and with that I signed up, sent off the form and thought no more about it.

Two months and some other bits of time later and here I am, standing outside the lab, cleverly disguised as an unused office block (the lab, not me) right next to a sandwich bar and the Tesco metro. (clever, very clever, but I guess undercover evil government agents have to eat too.) I do a quick sketch of the place - just in case I never come out (of course, if I don't come out then the sketch is unlikely to make it out on it's own, but let's not let common sense get in the way of a good diverting fantasy). I've got my best pants on and I've cut my toenails - bring it on ...

As soon as I get inside they start with the tests - I'm pretty hopeful I will get selected for the experimental drug that will turn me into a super soldier as everyone else has got to be over 60. All I need to do is perform on the tests and I'm a sho in and then we'll see who's laughing when I bring this crazy madhouse tumbling down.

There's a series of questions which seem innocent enough until I stumble across the 'bald' question. Aha! Just as I thought - a surreptitious selection process is at work here - and they are obviously looking for the follically challenged - I knew it would be an advantage eventually.

I ask them where the secret lab is (knowing that there's hundred's of floors below this one full of failed experiments), but the operative just laughs and says if he told me, it wouldn't be secret. (clever, very clever - but I know the truth.)

Damn - I fail on the pairs test - It's all going well until the last four cards and then I click everything randomly and I'm done for.

Still - there's always the urine, mid-flow, test as they cruelly force you to cut the wee off after you've started, get just the right amount in the cup, stop again (?!) and carry on in the loo. Can't see all the other elderly subjects managing this one. I can do it, I can do it - yes success - but wait, there's not enough in the cup! And it's all too late as there's nothing left. I've blown it.

That's it. Time to go, just the sop at the end of the free cup of coffee and a ....

ooo bourbons.

They smile at me as I leave (they all smile, all of the time - even more sinisteriness), but I'm not expecting the call back or the abduction by armed swat team in the middle of the night. I guess I will have to leave their demise to some other agent of justice.

FYVP

2009-06-13T08:39:00.000-07:00

Tuesday 09/06/09

Hey, it's Tuesday! I shouldn't be doing any drawing. Don't I know that today's an office day? Duh!

Thursday 11/06/09

I'm almost there, I can feel it. The end is nigh and it's looking flowery.

Just ... one more ... coat hook.

I can do it ...

That's it!

There.

Done it.

Finished.

I am a broken man.

P.S. Don't know what I was thinking with the hoody.

Friday 12/06/09

Too much studio action recently so despite the aches and pains of yesterday's 5-aside football debacle I hobble down GPS to stand outside one of the empty shop fronts in Argyle Street.

Just a little painting, should be fine, but oh no ...

I get casual with the layout and the next hour is spent trying to correct the Victoria Art Gallery - will I never learn.

There's this Bath Prize thingy coming up in a couple of weeks time where you have to paint a Bath landmark of their choice and have it dry and framed within a week. Top prize £2,500 (or thereabouts).

I was tempted. I was going to give it a go, but now ...

Look at this ... only 12" x 12" and it's a mess [so distraught am I that I have to post the image small so you can't really see it.]

I'm going to have to come back and sort it out another time.

This kind of performance isn't going to win me the coveted BATH PRIZE. I have worked out the timings and I reckon I will have a window of one or maybe two days to do the actual painting. Let's just hope it's sunny (long shot as it coincides with Wimbledon).

It's with a sense of relief that I pack up and whizz off - I've got to be somewhere at 11.00. Yes, that's it - quick let's go - not slinking off, but head held high - I've got places to go and people to see.

P.S. Later, back in the studio and I put the finishing touches on the portrait so here it is fyi. (fyi - that doesn't make any sense, better would be fyvp - for your viewing pleasure.)

!@%ed

2009-06-06T01:18:00.000-07:00

Monday 01/06/09

Damn, but it's hot & I didn't prep very well, so I can feel my shins burning. I'm painting Prior Park College again, but half term is over and there's now a steady flow of school kids going past, most of whom want to look at the painting. Luckily I've worn my street cool all yellow outfit marking me out as a hip old bloke(?!). Most of the comments are positive (about the painting, not my mustard shorts).

'Dude!' exclaims one girl. Not sure if she's talking to me, about me or commenting on the painting - apparently the word needs no further elaboration in teen speak. 'Er... that's a good thing", luckily for me someone explains as I don't speak teen.

Tuesday 02/06/09

Still hot, still burning, but this time I've worn long trousers (see - not so stupid - hey? hey?). [The project is still semi secret, so once again you're stuck with my ugly mug. Doing these self portrait sketches makes me realise that I look as *!@%*ed as I feel. Two weekends of open studios, lack of sleep and trying to get these commissions done on top of the office job is taking its toll. Maybe if I cut my beard I will regain my youthful good looks ... That's a pen lid in my mouth by the way.]

Friday 05/06/09

Aargh! Stripes! I can't take any more stripes. Goddamn them, goddamn them all to hell ...

Stripe blind I stagger down the Upper Bristol Road to finish the small painting of the boarded up corner shop. The sign says Monmouth Place Hotel, but I don't know if this refers to the building next door. Either way, it's seen better days.

No one says anything. They just look at me as if I'm a loon. One old boy walks past and stops next to me, looking incredulous. I turn to him and smile (as you do), but he just stands there looking from me to the painting and back again, still with that baffled look on his face. He's going to say something. Is he going to say something? He doesn't say anything. Eventually he walks on.

Kelly walks by from work on her way home, but I'm starting to flag (still *!@%*ed and the stripes took their own toll) and I don't make good conversation. She walks on and I finish up the painting.

[The haircut doesn't help, I still look like *!@%*]

Of rooks, deer and shenanigans

2009-05-31T11:27:00.000-07:00

28/05/09

I'm up at Prior Park painting the college. It's half term and there's no one else around. Landscaped gardens sweep down the valley and open out to a fantastic view of the city*. It's not quite the middle of town, but it's definitely not the country and a deer wanders out of the trees to my left. It bounds (as deers do) across the lawn and steps in front of the mansion house before disappearing into the trees on the far side. I guess it was twenty yards away from me at its closest. It's quite unexpected and quite wonderful.

Later and one of the masters comes out of his rooms to water some pot plants. He doesn't say anything to me and I don't say anything back. He and his wife have dinner outside and the chimes of the cutlery and the clinking of the china become my background music. It's a beautiful day.

* I can't post an image of the painting yet as it's a commission and I need to show it to the commissioner first. Sort of a surprise, but not quite. Semi mysterious I know, but you're stuck with the line drawing of old fat head.

29/05/09

I can't do any drawings on the way to the studios cos I'm picking up the wine for more OPEN STUDIO SHENANIGANS which also means that I don't get much painting done. To make up for it I do some sketching later, on the way to Sainsbury's to pick up some nibbles.

The entrance to the Studios and a lone flip flop reminds me how easy it is to leave a sandal behind in Homebase carpark (a long time ago now, but some things you never forget - probably due to wife and family ridicule on a periodic basis).

More flowers by the river; more tragedy; mirrored by the man drinking alone on the other side.

I walk on to find myself walking almost in synch with two muscle and tattoo clad topless youths. Their trousers miraculously stay up despite starting underneath their buttocks. I feel slightly intimidated, but keep pace with them for a while before stopping to draw a big old rook I saw this morning. I know it's a rook because it had a big grey beak and feathery trousers and Claire told me. The drawing doesn't work because although I remember the trousers and the beak it turns out I can't remember anything else. That is apart from the fact that the beak could peck your eyes out.

I get to Sainsbury's and there's a car alarm blaring away with a small child peering out from the rear window. I meet someone I know and I don't do any more drawings.

Before and After

2009-05-24T12:41:00.000-07:00

Thursday 21/05/09

A freebie invite to the south west region chartered accountants annual dinner (exciting stuff - I must contain myself) finds me digging deep into the wardrobe to find my old tuxedo (good word - better than dinner jacket). There's a little bit of debris in the pocket that tells me I haven't worn it since 1994, but praise be, it still fits (breath in ...). I manage to scrape off the bit of dirt on the jacket that I obviously never got around to dry cleaning and I'm good to go. To cummerbund or not to cummerbund, that is the question.

There's a fairly low key feel to the do (or so I'm told by those that regularly attend these things - "you should have seen it last year, now that was a ball; the glitz, the glamour, the showgirls ...") due to the economic climate, but regardless and surprisingly, considering I'm in a room full of accountants, (or maybe unsurprisingly, given the free wine) a great time was had by me. I manage to foist a couple of my arty business cards on to a couple of people that might make a difference and leave before getting too drunk.

Tux off (... and breath out) and back into the wardrobe - no need to dry clean, I'm sure it will be fine.

Friday 22/05/09

Feeling slightly hungover (see above). I did mean to go out and paint, I really did, but after a portrait sitting in the morning and getting the studio sorted for the OPEN STUDIOS WEEKEND I can't summon up the energy. By the afternoon I'm running on empty. Still, the portrait seems to be coming on okay, so here it is instead. Obviously not finished, but it's got the makings of something.

Rambling Again

2009-05-17T06:29:00.000-07:00

14/05/09 Thursday

15/05/09 Friday

You take your inspiration where you can find it (said he sagely) and this morning I stumbled across www.everycupofteaieverhad.co.uk (when I say 'stumbled across', it's the website of the new administrator at the studios and I keyed the web address in because she gave it to me, so 'stumble' is a rubbishy description). Check it out - it's treading a fine line between genius and insanity, but, synchronicitously, finding it coincides with my own attempts to diarise and document with scrawly line and I realise the enormity of what has gone before. I don't want to draw the same thing everyday for ever, but an element of prescription and habit helps to drive me forward. So ...

I document the walk to the studios again.

It's wet. The hole in my squelchy boots is at the expense of any grip and I slip on the steps at the bottom of the footpath. So I draw them. (..?!)

I passed this van at the top of the hill, probably a plumber's because there were two long copper pipes on the pavement. I don't draw them, but the image sticks in my memory and I try to recall it half way into town.

I stop on the steep bit of Holloway to draw the pavement. A bicyclist skids dangerously as he tries his brakes while racing down the road.

The new bus station. Nothing to say.

I buy some stationery and now I've got too many bags and they're heavy and I don't want to draw any more, I just want to get to the studio.

It's a dismal day and I lose myself to the madness that is the background of my current studio painting. [It fits the theme of repetition and lunacy so I include the work in progress here even though it's not the usual out and about on the streets of Bath thing.]

Lunch time and I get given a piece of coffee and walnut cake. It was a general offer for the last piece, but something in the look on my face must have given away the strength of my desire and no one else lays claim to it. Mmm coffee and walnut cake - it makes the day.

Later, and driven by the need to put something on the blog, I head out to paint. It's still grey, but that's okay as it gives me an excuse to paint the Upper Bristol Road again. Look there's the Bath Tour bus stopping and letting some passengers off - proof indeed (as if proof were needed) that the UBR is an appealing thoroughfare - a tourist attraction in its own right. I wonder what the on board commentary says about it.

There's rain in the air as I set off, but of course I haven't got any wet weather gear (because I walked to work and I'm an idiot). A boarded up cornershop grabs my attention and I set up by the still decaying site of the old JCR. The greens along the street on the left are quite bright and vivid, but I play it down because it's very distracting and green is a dangerous colour. That Bucks Fizz song is going through my head because the radio was going on about the Eurovision Song Contest tomorrow night - how annoying. Don't sing out loud, don't sing out loud, don't sing out loud.

The rain that has been threatening since I started, materialises in the form of drizzle, the kind of drizzle that drenches. I keep going until the paint stops sticking to the board. It's a start and I like it, so I'm not disappointed with the shortness of the session and I head back to the studio.

It's raining on the way home and I'm late so I don't do any drawing.

Hello Gran

2009-05-10T14:41:00.000-07:00

I had a really vivid dream about my Gran the other day. She's been dead for eighteen years, but she inspired me to start painting so I guess its sort of relevant.

We're driving from Weston-Super-Mare to Bristol going home after work. (Note of explanation - I did work with/for my Gran for a short period of time although the journey home was from W-S-M to Bristol, not the other way round.) It's a big 4x4 BMW (reality updated) and she's driving - one hand on the wheel and foot down. There is no road and it's as though we're driving through a construction site. I ask her if anything happened at work that day and she says my Uncle found his watch. (Is this relevant? No idea - I include it for completeness and all psychoanalysts.) Gran has to stop at a petrol station to 'freshen up' (there is a bathroom in the back of the beamer, but it's a bit cramped). We screech across the tarmac miraculously missing the pumps and coming to a perfect stop. While Gran goes for a shower (?!) I go into the shop and down to the basement gift section. The walls are covered with posters of a naked James McAvoy (although he's got a long white beard covering his tackle)...

And that's pretty well where it fades out. I wake up feeling really good (no - nothing to do with James McAvoy ...), the dream was so real that it was like I can still see and talk to her - 18 years (more like 25 since I worked for her) and it's like yesterday, so I guess we all live on in those that remember us. She didn't say anything about my paintings, but that's okay - she died before I really started painting, but I reckon she'd approve.

Scarey - getting a bit deep and profound. Back to some art.

Monday

Trying to finish the painting of Great Pulteney Street I spend 30 minutes getting across town just to arrive as it starts to rain. Idiot that I am I have not brought any wet weather gear and the whole event is a write off.

Thursday

I try again, but this time I'm ready for anything. There's only a little drizzle, but as soon as it starts I'm there with the Ben's Brilliant Perspex Rain Screen (patent pending, BBPRS for short) and there's no problem. I get no interruptions, no car horns, no van man shouts; it's all quiet. All quiet, that is, except for the mosquito that crash lands on the painting. He hits the terrace rooftops on the left where the paint is wet. The odds are stacked against him as he drags one leg after another, climbing up the chimneys. Slowly he labours on and then he's onto the sky and lucky for him he hits a dry patch. Faster now and by the time I turn back to look again, he's gone.

I think I overwork the sky, but sometime's you can't go backwards and the more you try the worse it gets.

Friday

I've got the possibility of a commission and I'm walking around town doing some preliminary sketches. I'm totally unobtrusive with just the small sketch book, but I'm concious of choosing a site that I can cope with if I come back for a proper big painting.

During the 1st one a Big Issue seller looks over my shoulder and compliments my perspective. He slaps me on the arm before walking away and my pen skids across the paper. He apologises profusely, but I laugh, I'm not sure it makes any difference to the drawing.

I like the 3rd one, but we'll see.