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Up The Rhondda

Travelling on the A4233 up the Rhondda Valley between Maerdy and Aberdare, there are a lot of viewing stops that are great for a quick scribble. It was quick too, as we were high up and it was cold and windy as well as bright and sunny. I keep to a restricted pallette of black, white and sanguine conté crayon into my A4 brown paper sketchbook.

I have put my series of drawings en plein air of ancient Welsh monuments on Artfinder. If you want to see more, please click on the image below or the Artfinder link at the top right of this page. This one is the legendary grave of Saint Elfys (Elvis) in Pembrokeshire, not for from the Presceli Mountains. Elfys? Presceli? Elvis Presley? Coincidence? hhhmmmm

Pressure And Strokes

Another quick sketch from Swansea Bay yesterday with conté crayons into my A4 brown paper sketchbook. I concentrated on capturing a sense of the atmosphere, rather than fine detail. I limit myself to three colours, white, sanguine and black, so different tones have to be achieved by varying the pressure on the conté sticks and overlaying one colour with strokes of another. The brown coloured paper gives me a ready-made mid-tone to work over, which makes life a bit easier. A lot easier really, as I don’t have to face the tyranny of a pristine white sheet.

A Walk On The Beach

Went for a walk on the beach, Swansea Bay, earlier today. Husb took off to do a run and I sat and scribbled into my A4 brown paper sketchbook from Seawhite’s of Brighton. I used black, sanguine and white conté crayons.

There isn’t a huge amount to draw on the beach and I’ve found that intimidating in the past, but many artists have made pictures from very little subject matter by concentrating on the atmosphere or their feelings for what’s in front of them, so that’s what I tried to do this evening.

Baseball Bat And Chips

Carn Eiddil

Husb and I took a road trip up some of the South Wales valleys today, calling in at the new Studio 18 gallery in Pontycymer owned by artist Kevin Sinnott, a fabulous artspace filled with gorgeous art; paintings, etchings, drawings, well worth a visit. Then over the mountain to The Workers Gallery in Ynyshir to catch the end of the current show from the gallery artists and guest sculptor Tobbe Malm from Norway. Always a great show on there. On the way home we called into a chippie in Ferndale for the best pie and chips and the chippie owner keeps a baseball bat behind the counter. My sort of place, totally! Then we drove up over the mountains , stopping at Carn Eiddil for a quick scribble up the valley before coming home.

In Praise Of Rhubarb

It’s rhubarb season and I made the first rhubarb crumble of the year a few days ago. It’s Husb’s favourite crumble and didn’t last long. It’s been around in Europe since the 14th century and it’s popular in gardens and allotments as well as being grown commercially where it’s often forced, especially in the Rhubarb Triangle and gathered by candlelight in the dark sheds. Rhubarb root can be made into a dye similar to walnut ink. I’ll have to give it a go! I did this drawing in a small sketchbook some time ago, using Faber Castell Pitt drawing pens and a block of graphite.

Visitors And Welsh Cakes

Had a busy day with lots of visitors so I made a batch of Welsh cakes and served them warm off the griddle. In The Welsh language they are called “picau ar y maen”. Maen means a stone and in ancient times before iron was smelted, a bakestone would be used to cook flat breads and cakes. They’re still in use now. I was given mine as a present way back in the 1970s. Here’s a little drawing I did of them.

Drawing In The Dark

Just back from the cinema with Husb, we went to see Their Finest, a lovey film, funny, warm and you’ll need a hankie. I had a scribble, of course, but in the dark. I could make out shapes of heads but couldn’t see the sketchbook. Frustrating.It’s good practice though, even if the result looks like a spider had done the Charleston all over it with inky feet.

But Is It Art?

But is it art? No, it’s rhubarb crumble.

I just made it. I picked the rhubarb yesterday in the garden. Husb says it’s a thing of beauty. Then he ate it. With lashings of custard. Then he had seconds. Didn’t last long.

The Scruffy Little Model

It was a really nice day today, not too warm, dry and perfect to get down to the allotment to make an early start on the Spring clearance and planting. The same thing happens every year, I say I’ll break myself in and do an hour at a time and work my way up but no, I did four and a half hours of digging, weeding, planting and hedge trimming straight off. And then got home and crashed on the settee. And didn’t do any art. So I grabbed my sketchbook and scribbled Little Ming who is asleep on the pouffé. She’s getting on a bit, she’s sixteen now but she’s always been a scruffy little thing.

As we walked across the park by the Castle to the allotment site, I noticed a swathe of bright yellow celandine and gleaming white wild garlic (Ramsons) tumbling down the grassy bank. I love the Spring.

Fierce Foreshortening

I try to get along to life drawing at Swansea Print Workshop as often as I can, usually manage every couple of weeks. This week I sat in a position that threw the model’s foot out at me, giving some fierce foreshortening. It’s really good practice; drawing underpins all the art I make, I need to keep my skills sharp so that I have the confidence to experiment and take risks when I want to.

I started out with white conté crayon onto brown wrapping paper, to block in some basic highlights, then added mid-tones with sanguine and finally the darkest tones and detailed line in black.

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