Jackson

Happy Birthday Charlie Goodman. Enjoy Jackson.

Bird on a wire

Madrid

Some friends of mine are travelling through Europe, and an email yesterday made me think about my trips to Spain. The first time I was in Madrid, I didn't really take to the city. On the surface, it isn't as pretty as other cities in Spain, but I don't think it was that - I think I was overwhelmed by all the movement and activity.

I'm not sure how to describe it. Madrid has beauty, but it also has that big city grit and hustle. But that isn't it either...Madrid is big trying to fit into small. Small squares filled with hundreds of people enjoying the afternoon sun. Tiny balconies in the city centre, home of the worlds biggest dogs. Small cobble stoned streets, with cars parked up the gutters and people lurching from one tapas bar to the next.

Maybe it was just that Madrid wasn’t what I was expecting that first time, because when I returned I fell in love with all of that big.

Here is a photo taken on that first trip, of a big plaza hidden behind the myriad of small alcoves, underneath the arches. I miss my gypsies.

I would hope it depends on the type of sin...

Finders keepers

Some of my friends are quick to tease me about my habit of finding and collecting bits and pieces. I used to walk to Lyneham shops nearly every workday with Stacey, and at least once a week I'd look down and find a shiny bottle cap, or an interesting piece of wood. It got to the stage where she would laugh and point out any old piece of rubbish for me to pick up...but to me I saw treasures.

I often hang on to this stuff for years before I use it, though the print below was a different story. It was from that sketchbook I talked about yesterday. Last night, when I opened it up this matchbook fell out, and I remembered the day at uni that I found that pretty box on the floor. It was just before my etching class and I used that image straight away. I loved the design of the boy under the sun and the colours and texture of the old worn box.

Lines in the sky

Screenprinting Sketchbook

I was flicking through my journals and came across some old sketchbooks from university. Some of the images still resonate throughout my work today (like using text in my work, drawing hearts, and the shape of a snowdome) which is interesting considering I hadn't realised or remembered. I was doing okay looking at these drawings. Nothing to 

be embarrassed about here. Nup, no cringing...until I read the words. Why do these words seem so familiar? How could I remember those words seeing I hadn't looked at those books for years? 

Why? Because none of them were mine. The first page begins ' I know you, you are too short, you have bad skin, you couldn't talk to them very well. Words didn't seem to work. They played dirty tricks on you when they came out of your mouth. You tried so hard to understand them. You wanted to be part of what was going on.' I go on and on for an entire foolscap page. And another. Thank you Mr Henry Rollins.

A few more pages in and I'm relieved to see words that don't ring any real bells until 'it was hard to find, oh well, whatever. Nevermind.' Oh my god, could I 

have been any more predictable? Looking closely at the words on that drawing it seems I have...well, kind of composed a medley of text from Nirvana's Nevermind album.

Later on there is also a reference to some lyrics from the Hummingbirds - though I could have probably gotten away with that one. Actually it isn't a reference, I copied from the song 'Get on Down'. Only one sentence 'You told my friends about the chariot I rode'.  Not so bad, except if my memory serves me correct I used many of their lyrics in an entire series of paintings. Oops. You can hear and watch the song on You Tube. Go look at what I stole, it will make me feel better.