About
This is probably where I’m supposed to write some sort of ‘artist statement.’ Yeah, no thanks. Have you ever read any of those things? They’re sooooooo boooooorring! Blech!
There’s only one thing worse than an artist statement: a description of their ‘process’ or ‘philosophy.’ The most self indulgent, pompous piffle you’ll ever read anywhere. You want to know my process? This is my process:
Throw a canvas on the easel I bought from a guy who I think got it off the back of a truck.
Stare at the blank canvas and get nervous. Try and find the photo I was going to use as a starting point. Find it and think ‘that’s too hard’ and go and put the kettle on.
Have a cup of tea, stare at the photo and think ‘just try.’
Start drawing on the canvas with pastel, muck it all up and wash the pastel off. Start again, make mistakes, wash it off, put up with the remaining stains and go again. Put a podcast on. Draw some more. This can go on for a while.
Eventually some paint goes on.
Paint for about an hour or a bit longer, then clean up and go for a run.
Do the cups of tea, podcasting, postponing, painting thing again the next day. There you have my process.
A while ago I was forced into writing a Bio. I don’t like doing them because I’m so uncomfortable about trying to make an ordinary life sound impressive, just to try to persuade someone to buy a painting. I really don’t like that thing where people are trying to convince others their lives are so much more superior. or successful, or glamorous. Yuk. Having written it, I’ve included it below, if you’re interested. And I don’t blame you if you’re not.
Bio
I’ve always had a fascination for drawing and painting. I’d lean in and watch magic happen when I was near anyone who was good at drawing. I thought they were tremendously clever! I’d take my drawings home and I’d be asked to ‘tell me about your drawings Felicity.’ Of course, I now realise that was because even though I knew what I’d drawn, no one else could figure out my scribblings.
I never had any talent and in spite of the excellent standard of education in Australia, no teacher in school ever came along to show us how to create. It was assumed we knew how. Very odd. The results proved that theory wrong.
Time wore on and I became a teacher myself. My subjects were English, Politics, Social Studies and Media Studies. Happy times.
More time wore on and practically out of nowhere I suddenly had an opportunity to go to a hobby painting class for adults. I went, knowing I was clueless and convinced I was going to make a total fool of myself but what I really found was great teachers, mentors and lovely fellow students.
I studied, I read, I learned and listened. I practised not because I had to but because I couldn’t stop. How amazing it was for people to recognise what I’d painted without me having to tell them! I also learned talent isn’t something you have at birth which makes you brilliant at something straight away. That’s twaddle. Talent is the drive you have to find out how to do something. It’s what makes you do the hard work and enjoy it.
My paintings started to sell. A friend suggested I teach art classes. I’d never considered I could do such a thing but it turns out I could. So I did, all round Melbourne and a couple of places in Sydney. I taught in people’s kitchens, in one garage, art groups, Tafe level, all sorts of places.
I’d become interested in mural painting and commissions came trickling in and it all came to a crashing halt the day I said to my doctor ‘oh by the way, I’ve got a funny lump here. That’s normal isn’t it?’ It was normal—for someone who had cancer. Cue the gloomy drumbeat: dun-dun-dun.
Eighteen months of chemo and immunotherapy later I’m in remission, chugging back to normal life, feeling great and someone close to me became unwell. I turned into a full time carer. Time for painting was very limited, for a long time impossible. My loved one passed away after 9 years.
Since then I’ve picked up painting again. I’ve been back to Paris and other places. Sometimes I’ll paint other subjects or other cities but painting the streets of Paris makes me happy. Paris has been through a lot but she’s always dressed up with her lipstick on. Je t’aime Paris.xx
