22″ x 18″
Acrylics, texture paste and gels, inks, spray paint on stretched canvas
I haven’t sealed this one yet with an acrylic binder or gel, waiting for it to cure.
Close ups of texture
9 ½” x 6 ½” (Actual painting size)
Acrylics, gels, inks and metallic effect Pebeo paper on mixed media paper.
Detail of foil work
I did a large canvas a few years ago that I’ve never been entirely satisfied with. I used bronze metallic paint to highlight the texture but it isn’t working properly. So I now want to bring it up to speed. The smal piece on paper that I did today is a kind of mock-up for the work I want to do soon on the older large canvas – which looks like this at the moment:
This canvas is 47″ x 39″ and about 2″ deep – I haven’t really had anywhere to work on it because of its size but I’m determined next week to take it downstairs and get started. Wish me luck!
“Lost at the mall”
24″ x 18″
Reworked old canvas. Acrylics, glues, fabric, hand-dyed silk, caulk and gels.
Trying some new colour combos out today. Don’t know as I like this one yet. Might chuck it 🙂
There is a little back story behind this one, though. Many years ago, I lost my youngest daughter, who was about four at the time, when we were shopping in a busy department store. My eldest daughter (who was also with me) and I, spent a frantic fifteen or twenty minutes running backwards and forwards trying to find her. The horrible thing, for me, was that I’d had a particularly vivid nightmare the night before and in it I was hysterically running through what appeared to be train carriages (also brightly lit and full of people staring at me) searching anxiously for something or someone … all the time I was looking for my little girl, I was trying to remember how the dream ended but I couldn’t! I think these kinds of dreams are called prescience … don’t know much about that. In any case, my heart was in my mouth as we ran through the garishly lit and noisy mall trying to find my baby – there had been a spate of child abductions in the area where we lived during that time, which made things even more scary. People watched me running past, screaming for my child, shaking their heads and looking worried but nobody actually did anything to try and help. We eventually discovered that she’d gone back to the parking area and was patiently sitting on the pavement by the front wheels of my car, waiting for us to come and fetch her.