Good News, Bad News

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

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

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:

1. They've moved the orange barriers along slightly;
2. I haven't got a green paint that can capture the flourescent jackets the builders are wearing;
3. The dumper truck is no longer in position, replaced by a big green digger;
4. 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;
5. 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

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:

1. Shadey (again);
2. Only one person asks me if I'm Peter Brown;
3. 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.
4. 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:

1. Can't stand exactly where I want without constantly opening the automatic door to the bus station behind me;
2. It's a long way from the Studio so it's quite a hike to get here;
3. 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

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:

1. I have my back to the Abbey and I'm by some railings so no one can stand or walk behind me.
2. 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.)
3. I'm in the shade of the abbey.
4. It's a great view - I like it!

Bad things about the spot I am standing on:

1. The tour bus parks in front of me.
2. Another tour bus parks in front of me.
3. 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

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

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.)