gwendolyn and the space between

Good morning to you lovely readers, and happy Sunday!

After an overwhelming response from my friends and readers on facebook this week, after my last post on Rosa and the subject of fairytales, I'd like to introduce you now to Gwendolyn.

This was a piece included in my December show, 'Strange Creatures, Sweet Allsorts', and you can see her all framed up with the rest of the collection if you click on the 'exhibitions' button to your right.

Gwendolyn's story is, as always, very much a part of me; she stands as a metaphor of childhood books and fairytales, and celebrates the very act of reading:

Growing up as an only child is a lesson in resourcefulness. After cats, books were my best companions. While other girls of eight were obsessed with horses and dolphins, I was collecting myths. Weekends were spent sitting cross-legged on the study floor, surrounded by encyclopaedias as I chased up one reference after another to the many wives of Zeus, to the sad fate of Persephone, to the birth of comely ladies on the froth of yonder seas.

Of course, I was lucky enough too to grow up with the wonderful school adventures of a certain young wizard named Harry. Younger generations are relieved of the agony we endured in the wait between instalments, but robbed of the delicious moment when, after another twelve months (twenty years in kid-time), the piggy bank was gleefully smashed and another tome was yours for the relishing. Lewis Carroll, Enid Blyton, Antoine de Saint Exupery and Shaun Tan were just a few of my favourite authors growing up; all masters of pens that wrote words that took you somewhere else while you sat in your comfy chair, all offering up a wonderful parallel reality that you could live in long after the last page was turned.

'Gwendolyn' was an interesting and at times frustrating painting to create. I experimented quite widely with new techniques like scratching, and to a braver extent this time with optical blending (you can see in some of the last progress images that Gwendolyn's hair takes on much warmer browns and reds to create greater harmony within the image).

Compositionally, I set myself a lot of challenges as well. Because the fence and birdcage both involve sections of negative space, creating a sense of foreground and background within these two elements took a bit of fiddling blending-wise. You might also notice parts of this image are much more textural than the style I've been developing these past few months, and while I'm not altogether sure I'd necessarily use as much of these hatching techniques in future, I think they work well to create the atmosphere particular to 'Gwendolyn'.

It's funny how some images don't turn out at all how you expect them to, and I am learning to let go of this a little more. I don't necessarily mean in a bad way, just sometimes that you can't always predict the end result. Some paintings start out as an excercise in taking a paintbrush for a swim! I think the best illustrators always aim to keep fresh, and the only way to do this of course, is to try new things as often as we can.

And I say- experiment! Celebrate the resulting- and inevitable- flaws! Relish in cack-handedness! If experimentation serves as a stepping stone to greater quality and consistency- why not? Really, it's only the significance we give to perceived visual typos within our work that make them so.

Happy travels my pets,

Mel x

rosa and the warm shiver

Good morning, fellow night owls!

I am very pleased to tell you all that I have, despite predictions to the contrary earlier on in the week, ticked almost everything important off my to-do list, and now can share a little something I've been working on.

This is Rosa, my own incarnation of that wonderful story, 'Little Red Riding Hood'. As a child, I always preferred these traditional folk-takes, and 'Red Riding Hood' probably best embodies that necessary quality of a good story: to be taken somewhere else entirely. For this reason I like playing visually with the idea of a 'warm shiver': that delicious crawling down your spine, the precarious feeling that your world might be toppling, that something might be 'off the leash' so to speak, and not so nicely watching you just out of your line of vision . . .

 There are about as many fabulous versions of this story as there are illustrators in Bologna come the annual book fair, but I must say I am probably fondest of those written by Perrault and the Brothers Grimm.

Although Perrault was said to have penned what was until that time a common French folk-tale, this is generally considered to be the inspiration for the modern, sugar-coated version we heard as children. The important difference between Perrault and his predecessors though, is of course the ending: "this wicked wolf fell upon Little Red Riding Hood, and ate her all up". Perrault's tale does not include the presence of the Woodcutter/ Hunstman, which only makes those thinly veiled innuendos that much the stronger in the wolf's invitation to Little Red, that she should 'come get into bed with me'. The wolf is used as a symbol of seduction, of dark and dangerous beauty and stealth, and quite successfully emphasises the foolishness of the young girl who goes a-wandering where she shouldn't.

Grimm's version, not unintentionally, is equally, well, grim. Red and Granny are rescued by means of that ever-capable Woodcutter gung-ho-ing his way in and playing scissors with Mr. Wolf's tummy as he takes a well-deserved nap, contented with his lady snacks. Once they are freed, the Woodcutter fills the wolf's stomach with rocks, stitches him up and plops him into the river- very much like last year's film 'Red Riding Hood' with Amanda Seyfried.

I think what I love most about these stories is that inherent danger of the wolf and what he and the dark woods represent (come on, admit it, it's a pretty sexy story!). Modern incarnations of fairytales are often like a checklist in political correctness; I think sometimes, it's nice to feel real emotion and be transported by a book- having it end not quite in the way we'd actually want it is part of the reason they're called 'fairytales' after all!

Happy reading my friends,

Mel x

the listmaker

It all started with a list. A list longer than the hours that tick by listening to a Bob Dylan Christmas album. (Lists are much less painful of course. I don't necessarily want to gouge my eardrums out with rusty nails when I write them- come on, it's just a list).

Now that's not to say it hasn't started well. It's not without its' fair share of inspiration and good company. But I would just in fact like to know, why every week must start with one, and why, oh why, the first week of 2012 couldn't be any different.

When I was in high school, I realised my lecture notes helped me to internalise stuff purely because I was bothering to write it down. I never could decipher most of the notes I scribbled onto endless reams of paper, but it didn't matter because, just like Pavlov's dog started dribbling uncontrollably when he heard the food bell, as soon as my hand started forming the words, I'd hardwired it into my wee noggin.

And so I begin my first post of the year with a confession: I am a chronic listmaker.

The problem, of course, with writing lists is that you've basically signed a contract in your own blood that you must tick those things off on your list OR ELSE THE WORLD WILL END. Forget to call the parental units about that annoying thing you don't want to be arsed with, let that self-imposed deadline slip by you to clean that stain off the roof, fail to sort out that mountain of receipts TODAY: you are suddenly beset by a cloud of doom that won't lift until you've ticked off those things on your duty-to-do, by which time your list has doubled in size like some menacing paper hydra.

What is worse still, for poor souls like me- by this process of hand-to-brain shortcutting, we can't just conveniently 'forget' what we've written down. Our list would not function as a list of we aren't able to cross each item off. And let me assure you- there is no shame like a failed listmaker.

It is a sad and crippling condition, all the more so because lists beget more lists: I have sub-lists and tributary lists. I have scrapbooks filled with them: boxes upon boxes of them, spider-ridden and doused with mothballs to preserve the integrity of lists long past. Alright, slight exaggeration- fear not for my safety, I am only metaphorically drowning in lists.

And so. I propose a new order: listmakers I know you're out there. Put down your pens. Lower that roll of paper nice and slowly now. List-en up. Think long and hard about the reasons behind your listmaking. Think about your poor husbands, pulling their hair out over this mad habit. Think of your cat- if it could talk it probably would say: 'Mummy, please spend your listmaking time with me instead. One less list a day is all it takes to cut it out completely'. And I agree. If Willow could talk, she probably would say that. She's very clever.

I am inspired: I will kick this filthy, anti-social habit! It is the dawn of a new year and by golly, I resolve to be better! I will start right now, this very minute: there are many reasons why list-making has become the bane of my life, and I shall compile these reasons in a list . . . .

Happy New Year lovely readers! Wherever you might be, whatever you turn your hand to, I hope you make the time in 2012 to work on the dreams and lists you've sticky-taped to your heart.

All nice things,
Mel x

we're a happy bunch of grumpies here!

Happy Monday everybody!

It's been a brilliantly busy weekend here at Grumpy Star Studio. We were out and about at Parap Markets on Saturday for a bumper pre-Christmas weekend; meeting new faces, talking Fimo and illustration techniques and, best of all, exchanging lots of happy smiles. I'm sure Adam Hills mentions in one of his skits how fabulous and surreal it is to be a comedian- people working in I.T. for example, aren't treated to a clap and a cheer for switching on their computers in the morning, or remembering their passwords (though they should be- I'm still amazed I can find the 'on' button on my beast of a thing, let alone designing programs on it!). Now- don't misunderstand me here- I'll grant you I've learned a sense of wit in my impending 26 years, but people have yet to pay me for telling jokes (or fixing computers). All the same, both of us are fortunate to have jobs that make others just as happy as we are to do them.

Speaking of computers- you might notice a few changes around here. After ten or so hours of tweaking, the blog has been almost completely overhauled and is looking pretty darn nice if I do say so myself! If you click on the button marked 'exhibition' you'll also find a complete inventory of the 30 works that made it into my recent show at Woods Street Gallery, 'Strange Creatures, Sweet Allsorts'. Plans are already in the pipes to add other posts to this list in the coming year, so stay tuned!

And onto the subject of exhibitions, I'm very happy to share with you all that mine and Dave's work is now proudly shown at one of Darwin's best art galleries, Framed. You'll find our lovely lolly necklaces on show in the 'Flower Power' exhibition, run alongside the December show, 'Laughter is the Best Medicine'. Today we dropped off a few of the paintings from the Woods Street show that have yet to find loving homes, so keep your peepers peeled for these, too.

And for all of my lovely supporters out there who have contacted me in the past about buying online- there is lots of work going on behind-the-scenes for the grand opening of our Etsy Shop in early 2012! Hooray!

Hoping you have a brilliant day wherever you might be.

Mel x

alicia of hearts

Hullo again dear readers!

My show 'Strange Creatures, Sweet Allsorts' has now been hanging merrily for a little over a week, and I am very happy to tell you that it has been received fabulously well! Friends, family and everyone else in between came from all corners of our fair city to support me, wish me well and make my night so wonderful.

After sixteen months of working towards it, it's so satisfying to know I don't honestly feel I could have put on a better debut show. Everything looked so smashing thanks to Paul and Don at Don Whyte Framing, who have spent weeks working with Dave and I comparing and ordering mouldings, talking tonal values, offering framing advice and just generally being wonderful.

To accompany these gorgeously framed pictures, I wrote stories about each of the images and how they came from being ideas in my head to pictures on paper. So many people commented on my writing, which is humbling and wonderful, because I do love words, and it's nice to make good sentences when one can manage it.

Everyone lingered long and attentively, reading and looking at my pictures carefully in the same way I look at my children's books. This, I think, is the very highest compliment- to watch people give themselves over to something, to stop whatever else they're doing to study something- to know it's something I've made myself that they're looking at- is so affirming. It is wonderful to know I can do something I love and to be able to share it. A couple came into the gallery yesterday and the gentleman said to me by way of goodbye: 'I came in feeling quite grumpy, and now I feel really relaxed. Your work has taken me somewhere else'.

Dave was not without his fair share of admiration on the opening night either: toiling well into the previous Thursday night to prepare no less than 150 macarons, (only one of which was left uneaten at the end of the night very probably because it was smooshed up in the crush to stuff salivating gobs Darwin over); he was rewarded with the sound of many ladies sighing in plaintive tones: 'I wish my husband made macarons for me!' Dave and I are so compatible that way- he cooks and I love eating, so all is as it should be.

And now, with around half the exhibition promised to happy buyers at the end of the week when it all comes down, my mind is already on another, and other projects besides. Stay tuned!

In the meanwhile, here's a little something I managed in between times that didn't make it to the show. 'Alicia of Hearts' is already on my market shop table in a limited edition of 30, and would make the perfect present for every little girl from 3 to 103 who has a fondness for all things pink. She is of course inspired by that wonderful little girl who falls down a rabbit-hole and captures the heart of everyone who remembers what it is to be a child in a world of adults who talk a lot of nonsense.   

All nice things for a wonderful weekend wherever you and your heart might roam.

Mel x

sweet press

Only hours to go now! I was stoked to find this wonderful article in today's copy of the NT News promoting tonight's opening. A huge thanks to Caine Edwards for his words and Michael Franchi for coming in to take photographs on Wednesday.

And in other exciting news, I've also only just this minute received a call from the ABC in Alice Springs- be listening in at 6.25 tonight folks!

And now I'm off to attend to hair and dress and other important things- see you there!

Mel x

one more sleep . . .

So looking forward to seeing you there!
Happy Thursday everybody!
Mel x