Hello dear readers, and welcome to a new week, full of possibilities (I like to think).
So much better to start the week positively, isn't it?
I was thinking about you all, as I sat down to do my blog, and I was thinking about me.
I was thinking, "I wonder if it's o.k. to thank you all again for your helpful and encouraging comments about my new work?" Am I over-doing it by thanking you all the time, and will it become mundane? Then I thought "Naaahhh, I'll thank all my dear readers as much as I want, because when ever I do, it's from the heart".
You're all nurturing me, like watering a seedling, and I'm starting to stretch my leaves and grow. Your comments have made a huge difference to my confidence, huge. I feel excited about my paintings, and eager to know what you think. I can genuinely say that you are helping me to grow, really, really, honestly grow! Thank you so much, thank you so, so much!
So it was with my paintings in mind, that I asked my Father-in-Law, Alan, for some more Snowdrops. Alan very kindly dug up a huge clump for me, and gave me some moss too, which was a nice added touch. I then went home and broke the clump into smaller bits, and potted them up into cups and bowls. That's a messy business. Soil everywhere.
What is it about bulbs planted in cups and bowls that's so pleasing?! And that added touch of the moss covering the soil, just so pretty!
I'm always a bit over optimistic with my acquisition of flowers for my still lives, I buy too many, thinking I'll be able to paint them all before they wilt and die. I think I must have been born with the belief that achieving the unachievable is attainable. Even when I repeatedly don't attain the unattainable, I still believe I'll attain it the next time.
Perhaps it's just optimism.
So, yes, I'm optimistic that I'll be painting each and every one of these cups and bowls planted up with Snowdrops.
I'm optimistic about doing all that painting, even though I have a freshly cut pile of paper, sitting on my desk. This pile of paper, cut to size, is ready for me start drawing on it. That's the first thing I do, before starting the rough drawings for a book I'm illustrating, cut the paper to size.
I'm starting on a new mole book, the fifth in the series. Even though I know mole and his friends, and where they live, from the previous four books I've illustrated, I always have a panic before starting a new book. "I don't know if I'm capable of doing this," always runs through my mind. It's much worse when I'm doing a book where I have to start from scratch with the characters and setting. Infact, maybe I shouldn't be thinking about it, because I'm starting to perspire with anxiety.
It will be fine once I start drawing, and get to know my pal mole again, and his friends.
Still, there's always an element of horror at the start of a new book project! Strange, isn't it.
When I'm working, I sit at a desk, which I'm always telling myself is much too small.
"My desk really is much too small".
Sometimes, I look at my desk, and smile, because I'm reminded of an acquaintance who visited my studio. She was horrified at my desk. When I'm drawing, I prop the board up on the cardboard box you can see in the picture above, so I'm not bending over my work too much. The horrified lady was insistent that I needed a 'proper' desk, like architects use. And when I say insistent, I mean INSISTENT. I have to say, she was banging her head against a brick wall, because that cardboard box is the PERFECT height to lean my board on. Plus, I've been using that cardboard box since the first moment I started illustrating professionally, twelve years ago. So of course, my desk wouldn't feel quite right without that cardboard box helping me on my way. That cardboard box will be going out with me when I'm in a box.
Still, my desk is too small. I really must get a bigger desk. A bigger studio too. That would be nice. When I see photos of artists in their factory sized studios, in glossy magazines, I always think, "they've made it, they're successful, they've got a nice big studio". If I ever get a nice big studio, I will have a great big sofa in it, and a huge desk, and fantastic storage for all my materials. I remember visiting the studio of an artist on the Island of Westray, one of the Orkney Islands. It was beautiful, and big, and it had a flag-stone floor with under-floor heating. There was a huge stone sink, walls lined with cupboards and sets of drawers, and a view to the sea, through lots of windows. I felt physical pain when I saw it, I wanted that studio to be mine so very badly.
There was another studio I saw once which provoked a similar pain filled response, in Yorkshire, in the hills above a valley. It wasn't inhabited when I saw it, I think it had just finished being built. It was a reasonably large size, built of honey coloured stone, with sky lights, and floor to ceiling glass at the front, plain white interior walls, all looking out onto the valley that stretched away into the distance below. I had been looking for a spot to eat my sandwiches, so I parked at the bottom of the driveway full of builder's rubble, and ate my sandwiches staring at the view, trying not to get indigestion whilst thinking about the studio behind me, not belonging to me.
We must all have our dreams, musn't we?
But for the moment, I am concentrating on the idea of squeezing in everything I want to do today. Over the weekend I started a new painting, and it needs to be finished before the flowers crumble. So I think I shall go and transform my small desk from illustration work mode, to painting still lives work mode. After I've made a cup of tea and eaten those last chocolate segments Hugo has foolishly left in the cupboard.
So I shall see you again on Wednesday, when I hope to be in a frame of mind where my world consists largely of little animal characters, who have little personalities, and whom I'm besotted with. That will mean I've got over my initial anxiety over starting a new book, and am well and truly engrossed in it!
Ta-ra for now. Love Vanessa xxx
hi vanessa
i have to say that now i've got used to it, i rather like the idea of you posting monday/wednesday/friday i do so look forward to those days!!
by now i'm sure you're well on with mole and friends and regarding buying flowers for your still lives you can never have too many flowers as you well know.
keep dreaming about your studio and i'm sure one day you'll have one but never get rid of your little cardboard box!!!
love gill
Posted by: gill | February 08, 2010 at 07:35 PM
Hope the new book goes well,I'm sure you need the comfort of your little cardboard box,it would probably feel very strange with anything else. See you on Wednesday.
Sue xx
Posted by: Sue | February 08, 2010 at 07:48 PM
A new mole book!!! How exciting! You know already we are equally besotted with Mole and his friends :o), especially my dear husband, he he!!
I hope that one day you will get your perfect studio, you deserve it!
Bon travail!
Isabelle x
Posted by: Isabelle | February 08, 2010 at 07:56 PM
Hi Vanessa - I LOVE snowdrops and we don't get them here, so your photos made me feel really good.
Best of luck with the new book. Did your Mum tell you that I gave several as Xmas presents? At last, there are children I can buy for!
Love
Ruth
Posted by: Ruth | February 08, 2010 at 07:57 PM
Goodness I have so enjoyed browsing through your paintings, both the abstract and floral. The abstract ones have such a calming quality. I love their subtleness. The floral ones are just a joy to look at. Those primroses are so cheerful.
Your snowdrops in their dotty spotty cups are heartening too. How lovely they look in their tiny ceramic flowerbeds.
Ta-ra? I haven't heard that for a while, not since my childhood in Liverpool. Do you know, my Grandfather (a GP) delivered Cilla Black into the world!
Posted by: Emma | February 08, 2010 at 08:03 PM
I love your snowdrops in cups, wonderfully delicate and pleasing.
It must be lovely illustrating children's books, good luck with your new one!
Posted by: Sara | February 08, 2010 at 08:03 PM
So much to agree with there...
...the studio envy - definitely!!
...the buying of flowers that won't last long enough to paint.
...the eating of chocolate before any work can begin!! In fact any food procrastination!!!
Have a good week. x
Posted by: paintdropskeepfalling.wordpress.com | February 08, 2010 at 08:06 PM
Vanessa - another lovely post full of lovely snowdrops. Whether you get to all of them or not, what could be nicer than a teaparty full of snowdrops!!!!!
Posted by: mlle paradis | February 08, 2010 at 08:54 PM
It is Tuesday morning and there is another lovely post from you. I love the snowdrops in the cups, and the cups too! Chocolate always helps me to get started, in fact it makes the world go round again! If your desk is too small, it still produces beautiful paintings and illustrations but peerhaps that is the magic of the perfect box. Friends always help each other and your blogs put a smile on the face of all your readers as they share your life so I am glad we can help you a tiny bit with our enjoyment of your work! So, 'here's to blog friends' [maybe a cup of tea from one of those cups!!]
Love from Aubrey
Posted by: Aubrey Cotton-Stapleton | February 08, 2010 at 09:11 PM
It may have been messy with soil all over the place, but how utterly lovely they look.
Dreams of Studios - that's what keeps us goin'.
Hugs,
Gerry
Posted by: Gerry | February 08, 2010 at 10:01 PM
Snowdrops are rather appropriate today, because after a little spell of mild weather the snow is back! What lovely pictures they will be, I do like the mossy look too. Empty sheets of paper are intimidating aren't they? I find if I draw or paint (doodles) on scraps I am much likely to do something otherwise I am rather daunted; I tend to like the backs of envelopes for some reason - I am far from venturing onto real paper. I would keep your little desk and especially the cardboard box because they are familiar comfortable and friendly for you and you are probably quite attached to them. I think they are rather charming myself. Dreams are lovely to have though. I can understand you feeling anxious about your new illustration project - but you must feel tremendously proud when all your own ideas take shape and form on the page and as you are familiar with mole I'm sure you will be friends again very soon - and you definitely can do it! You deserve all your praise. For one thing you are VERY talented and for another it is a very brave thing to share your work because it is very personal. The least us lot can do is tell you how much we like what you do; your blog is such a nice little corner to turn to on a cold nasty day - a happy place.
Posted by: Siobhan | February 08, 2010 at 10:19 PM
Oh the Snowdops are SO pretty in their delightful cups!
Good luck with the new book!
Such amazing work from a 'small' desk too!
Have a great week!
Rachel x
Posted by: Rachel | February 08, 2010 at 10:40 PM
Oooh I spy my pink,red and blue stripey Lakeland bowl! The snowdrops look lovely, they obviously didn't mind being moved, probably appreciated a nice warm home!
Good luck with your new book, I so wish I could draw.
Posted by: Carol | February 09, 2010 at 12:35 AM
I cant even imagine what it's like to be you Vanessa. Our lives are so different!
I also have serious envy...of other people's homes. We had the choice of buying a new, pretty home in a planned subdivision with no yard, or an old (ugly) house by a little lake with a decent sized yard. We chose the latter. And though I'd do it again in a heartbeat, it sure does hurt to think of all the beautiful homes I could have had...
Posted by: Erica K | February 09, 2010 at 01:54 AM
Great post Vanessa. I'm the same as you with the idea that if something doesn't happen it will next time. Optimistic definitely. Lovely snowdrops and I loved the way to talked of your work. Studio envy? Yep, I know it well! x
Posted by: Pipany | February 09, 2010 at 07:34 AM
The sun is shining and there are snowdrops on your blog, Perfick! P x
Posted by: penny | February 09, 2010 at 09:47 AM
Those snowdrops are so beautiful! Love the story behind your desk/cardboard box :)
Posted by: skirmishofwit | February 09, 2010 at 09:48 AM
I love the idea of snowdrops in little cups. I'm sure your new paintings will be wonderful.
Posted by: maria | February 09, 2010 at 09:52 AM
Well Vanessa, of course the delicate (yet so strong) snowdrops caught my eye immediately. Relocating them to the mugs and teacups seems to suit them perfectly.
What really made me want to comment, though, was reading your description of your small desk, drawing board, and that cardboard box. You have got such a kindred spirit over here in New York.
Space is always rare in NY apartments, and my place is quite tiny. I have one multi-purpose table, and am constantly shuffling projects around. I've also got a number of recycled boxes, baskets, etc. that over the years have taken on almost ceremonial importance to these creative pursuits of mine. Working without them ... never!
Best wishes. xo
Posted by: frances | February 09, 2010 at 02:19 PM
The snowdrops in the spotty mugs are so pretty, they have a magical feel to them. I can imagine little fairies sitting on the handles having a rest from flying.
As for not believing in yourself where Mr. Mole is concerned I think that's just nerves (like a actor gets stage fright even though they know they can act). I am in awe of anyone who can draw and paint. I would love to have a talent like yours. Anna x
Posted by: Anna | February 09, 2010 at 02:45 PM
dear vanessa,
hi. my names ramya , istumbled upon your blog some days ago...and i cant express how much i love reading and even more looking forward to reading it!! i can almost see u typing at your desk. dont get rid of the box pls cos it is a constan reminder of your beginnings....even whne u get that wonderful studio u so fully deserve!!
i love knitting esp fr others. i also lov eto paint though havent done it for so very long....looking at ur work has started me thinkin about restarting!! so thank you!!
cant wait for tomorrows post, wish i could email u too esp when i need inspiration.
warm regards,
ramya
Posted by: ramya | February 09, 2010 at 09:41 PM
Your snowdrops made me happy today!
Posted by: knittingoutloud | February 10, 2010 at 12:46 PM
Hola, hacía mucho que no paseaba por tu blog, y estoy feliz de haber venido hoy, siempre me regocija y me hace volar con la imaginación
Un beso y hasta la próxima
Adriana
Posted by: Adriana Gorosito | February 10, 2010 at 01:42 PM
Oooohhh those snowdrops in their little spotty dotty mugs warm the cockles of my heart! Can't wait to see the paintings :-)
Your lovely old box is like an old friend and much as you will (hopefully) get your studio - there will surely always be a place for it - it's hard to part with - too many memories - so much inspiration.
As for mole, well you've been through so much together, he's within you and I look forward to purchasing the next book for my Grand-daughter.
What a lot you have going on at the mo - Much love and Luck xxx
Posted by: Lorraine Tarr | February 10, 2010 at 06:25 PM