The smell of colour
It was the first time I had shared a piece of writing with my bi-weekly writing group.
Even though the other members always offer fair and constructive criticism, I had to work to keep my voice strong from behind my laptop screen.
It was the first time I had shared a piece of writing with my bi-weekly writing group.
Even though the other members always offer fair and constructive criticism, I had to work to keep my voice strong from behind my laptop screen.
I read out a piece I wrote for this blog last year, about working backstage at the theatre. And the others said some great things. For example, that they felt they were really there. That the nature of the piece was cinematic. A couple of people picked up on some turn of phrases I'd used that they liked.
But one thing I'd forgotten to add in was a description of smell. It's true that I usually think very visually. And sound is always a big part of working at an opera house, obviously. But smell... I tend to forget about that one.
The next night while I was at work, I kept checking in to see what things smelt like.
Hot dust around the stage lanterns. The waxy, floral perfume of make-up. The thick and cloying, boiled-sugar smell of stage blood. Hair spray and deodorant in the dressing rooms. Freshly laundered costumes. Instant coffee in the kitchen. The slightly mouldering scent of an old parasol prop.
It was a fun experiment, which led me to wonder if smell is something that can be ascribed to colour.
I love the smell of my paints – they have rich, slightly chalky, oily scents. But does cadmium red smell slightly spicy? Does Prussian blue bring to mind the earthy, water-lily smells of a moonlit lake? Does chrome yellow smell like a zesty, sun-bleached afternoon? Magenta, like a massive bowl of curling rose petals?
Probably not, but in my mind they do, and it's been interesting to take note of how much a smell can influence a mood. Maybe one day, they really will make scented paints.
Pearl
Stitching magic
Ethereal, delicate, raw, exquisite, dream-like, gossamer...
...some of the words that come to mind when I think of the internationally renowned fashion designer Abe Hamilton's work.
Last weekend, I was thrilled to spend a bit of time with Abe himself, who happens to be a friend of a friend.
He brought along a chic black portfolio, stuffed to the gills with photographs, press clippings and magazine shoots for me to have a look through.
'It all started with some pressed daisies that I had collected in Spain,' said Abe, 'and the inspiration just flowed from there.'
It was a such a beautiful treat to wade through the portfolio and immerse myself in this gorgeous world of magical elegance.
And it seems that fashion isn't Abe's only passion – as you can see from the amazing cake that he baked for us!
Pearl
Creative courage
I've been struggling with a bit of artist's block lately.
It's always a little disconcerting when this happens.
You just have to exhale and act cool, and hope that your creative muse will think you're not too bothered. It's an exercise in trust, really – most artists will have found themselves dealing with this many times.
You just have to develop the faith that sooner or later, you will be moved back to your easel, your computer, or whatever your tool of choice happens to be.
There is a general sense that this is a 'dead' time of year, when business is slow, people are languishing in post holiday blues and the 'feel good factor' is in short supply.
But over the weekend, I happened to notice that there is evidence to the contrary.
Flowers, new shoots, and vibrant berries are parading themselves on the trees – defiant and victorious over wintery challenges. I thought, wow - they are so courageous.
And so, I came home and got out my paints and brushes.
Pearl
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Jagged edges
This was my lunchtime view yesterday
The old West Pier, which has been derelict since 1975 and was further destroyed by a fire in 2003, looks like a sculpture to me.
And, perceived as such, it is one of my ultimate favourite pieces of art. Many schemes for restoring the structure back to its former glory have been kicked about, but so far the money hasn't materialised.
However, I love the pier just as it is, as do many other people, I'm sure. This is simply another phase in the story of the building's lifetime.
Just as we will age and change, endure storms and pick up scars, so has the West Pier and this, in my opinion, makes it all the more magnificent.
I say, don't try to smooth out your jagged edges and hold onto the past. Rather, embrace your life experience, your wisdom, your uniqueness and the beauty of what you are becoming.
Pearl
Autumn Queen
As the frosts have started creeping in, I have noticed the trees and plants around me have literally been on fire with the most stunning colours...
My corner of the world has had an unusually gorgeous autumn this year, thanks to the boon of a blazing Indian summer. As the frosts have started creeping in, I have noticed the trees and plants around me have literally been on fire with the most stunning colours. I tried to capture some of it on my phone...
The inspiration has been immense - not sure if I would have thought of pairing acid yellow and black with a deep rust red - and those delicious, rich purples and pinks set off with cool lime greens and dusty, ashy tones - sumptuous!
These ideas all came together in a new piece I've called Autumn Queen:
