Setting The Scene

One of the bonuses of modelling the Impossimals in plasticine is the versatility regarding camera angles although sometimes it can still be tricky. In this piece I wanted the impression of hearts floating down on a couple below. My first model looked ok'ish, I had even used garden canes to raise the height of the hearts a little and to cast shadows in the right place.

 But after taking this photo it looked kind of static, it needed more movement in general and I think that could be added with more height.

So using bigger sticks and weights I managed to get the biggest heart around two foot off the ground and to cast a large shadow to one side.

Taking a photo from above it all looked a lot better, but as a painting it still lacked a sense of proportion and balance.

After a bit of adjustment with the lights, a tightening up of the hearts and a slightly more intimate camera angle it all looked a whole lot better, balanced with the two Impossimals taking centre stage.

Don't forget this weekend we are back on the road with appearances on Saturday 24th March at Castle Galleries, Reading between 1-4pm and again on Sunday 25th March at The Original Art Shop at the Trentham retail village, Stoke-on-Trent between 12-3pm.

Snakes On A Plane

OK it's not exactly snakes it's a shower head and pipe, it's more of a car than a plane and Samuel L. Jackson didn't step in at any time and say 'Everybody listen! We have to put a barrier between us and the snakes!' so don't get too excited. Although it did entail plenty of wrestling with it snake style as I tried to remove it's vice like grip from the shower unit, a position it has held for eight years so was unwilling to give it up without a fight even though the night before it had split near the shower head and sprayed water liberally around the cubicle leaving just a dribble coming the right direction so you would have thought it would be weak after being injured.

The staff at my local DIY store shrugged with that special shrug they do that tells you it's your problem and they really don't give two hoots if you can't find it, you know the one, it's the shrug that ends with a casual wave in the general direction of 23 aisles and the bored 'it's over there' now go away face. I eventually found them tucked away behind the carpets and next to a thousand shower heads some of which featured attachments so exotic they looked illegal. Really, three heads, power action and massage mode?

Faced with twelve different shower pipes that all look exactly the same but range from £3 to £30 always fills me with a dilemma. Do I go cheap and regret it or do I buy the most expensive, after all there has to be a difference right? Next comes the comparison, I unfurled my damaged pipe and compared nozzles, you know, to make sure they matched the size, not easy and I couldn't be sure they were exactly the same so I did the sensible thing, took a shower head from the display and tried it in the new pipe, it fitted perfectly so I unscrewed it and tried it in my damaged pipe. It also fitted perfectly, perfect I thought then panicked, it was stuck. I must have damaged the screw thread when I wrestled it from the shower earlier.

Oh no!

No matter how much I tried I couldn't budge it an inch. Jayne held one side as I twisted and turned it trying to use the increasing tightness in the flexible pipe to give me more leverage. Apparently I over did the twisting looking back and it suddenly become alive as the twisted pipe decided to release all it's energy back into the shower head and it spun out of my hands. I have to say people can really move if they have too, my metal snake complete with shower head head wriggled, writhed and clattered it's way a few feet down the aisle, shoppers scattered as if confronted with a real snake, I however, stood mortified.

I didn't even feel particularly like a snake handler either as I retrieved the shower snake from the floor although I did feel like saying 'It's OK everyone, it's dead' or 'Watch out! There's another one!'. The head still would not move and I sheepishly retreated to aisle 3 and used an adjustable spanner to remove it.

In the end I went for a middle of the road replacement pipe that fitted perfectly and pondered shower snakes. Do they exist and what do they look like? I feel a painting coming on...

Mankini

I don't mind shopping, being taken from place to place across several hours broken by the occasional coffee and cake only to return back to the original shop, it's all part of the experience. I don't even mind being asked for the umpteenth time if this looks OK, is the right colour or fits better than outfit number 26. The thing I really dread though is this...

 It was introduced to me today as the Man Chair. The proprietor of today's shop of choice was very efficient and attentive but as soon as she said 'You can sit on the man chair' my heart sank. You see, this chair appears in every place that sells ladies clothes and that includes the big chains too and quite often they are filled with bored looking middle aged men with armfuls of bags and a face that screams defeat. The worst places offer man sofa's where you have to squeeze in amongst the bored throng or suffer a worse fate of trying to stand near the changing rooms without a) Looking suspicious, b) Getting in the way or c) Looking like a pervert.

I once stood too close in one store to the changing rooms whilst I waited only to be looked up and down by various customers with looks ranging from filthy beast and suspicion to glares that looked like they were trying to remember my features just in case I had been on a wanted poster.

Sitting on the man chair today was unusually a simple affair. The shop was empty apart from myself and Jayne so any indignation was avoided. Glancing to my right though I found another reason to shudder.

A selection of 'man' based magazines to entertain said man. Call me picky but Practical Caravan (special issue with '70's Leyland road tests and how to cope with an overturned Swift in a thunderstorm), a general over 50 health magazine (with articles on coping with dying and how to avoid urine stains, honestly. Ugh!) and Best of British (building narrow boats, brewing tea that tasted like it did in the war, Dame Vera Lynn of course, ghastly glasses, why we should cane all the buggers again and mending minesweepers. No doubt if I dug deeper I would have found the 'hang the buggers' article and how to build an air raid shelter for those weekends away) wasn't riveting reading.

It kept me amused for a short while though. Well, we are talking short seconds actually, until the first of the questions started. 'Does this look right?', 'What about the colour?', 'You're not paying attention are you?' and I slinked back into my man chair role.

Ahh, the man chair what it giveth with one hand it takes away with the other. 'Are you comfortable there? Not long now.' was the reassuring words from the proprietor. I actually thought she was talking to a small child sat next to me but alas the small child didn't exist. Mmm.

So the next time I'm offered a man chair I have decided to go to town and take along a pipe and slippers, some reading material and maybe a small sandwich and a large brandy to really feel at home. I may even bring along a small dog called Colin to curl at my feet. Comfy? You betcha!

Scrandom

It's a pretty random day for me today so I thought I would update you on the latest supermarket games you can join in with. Supermarket scrabble though, the popular spice based word game, seems to have run it's course. Words are being repeated and many spice racks are now regularly policed for naughtiness, even the packaging is starting to change. It seems though that has only upped the stakes and now everything is to play for with double points and triple word scores for the more creative entries.

Take greeting cards for instance, you can guarantee as soon as a letter appears on anything it's going to be open season and I'm sure this is not the first time this has been done but I bet you can score some pretty impressive words.

The strange thing is though is the fact it's crossed over to magazines which you would have thought been immune from this. Not so, this is one of the less rude displays of magazine munificence... Mmm, Reptile Lust...

Back to reality and a valiant attempt at the local garden centre with a floral boobies display, obviously one for Alan Titchmarsh. Things like this are so unexpected too amongst the petunias and bird feeders. How rude dear!

Probably with hindsight it would have been best to stick just to names... people are so childish. Titter ye not.

Sometimes they just bring it on themselves though, fancy some of Iceland's pre-packed premium bottom? Didn't think so.

But for absolute class it's the spell checker failure that brings the most titters producing quite a unique selling point, apparently it also comes with eight cans of lager and a traffic cone.

Right, now I have got that out of my system today I'm back in the studio for another session and to maybe rearrange my paints into a vaguely amusing word, now what can I spell with turps, red, umber, magenta, prussian blue and slate grey?

Purile

It's not the first time I have stood in a public toilet wishing I was somewhere else but these things seem to occur on a too regular basis for comfort. From walking in on three naked men in Cardiff to figuring out a broken lock in Glasgow once again I was treated to some toilet treats in Chelmsford and Bournemouth this weekends gallery appearances.

Public toilets vary quite a lot around the country, from the downright despicable to the inescapably impeccable, Chelmsfords conveniences were stuck up three flights of stairs above a shopping centre and were middling on the scale. I'm constantly amazed at the different ways to wash and dry your hands too, from Dyson Airblades to gale force ten blowers, from paper towels to real towels that look like they have dried a dirty dog, this unique one I was stood in front of had the blower and get this, an ultra violet light to combat germs. Cool.

Not so cool was the guy who burst into the toilets and man handled is way passed pushing me into the dryer along the way. He was obviously desperate and had a pained expression, one you might imagine you would see if your naked foot had trod on an upturned plug in the dark. He barged into the nearest cubicle and slammed the door. Cubicles are not the most private of places so I was treated to assorted scuffles as he shed his clothes I imagined before a thud signified a seated position. Oh no, I thought, please, please, please let my hands be dry in time.

Too late.

OOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooommmmp. Pbtpbtpbtpbppbtpbt. Toot.

Krack Thoooom!

The last one took my breath away, this guy was seriously in trouble. After listening to what sounded like somebody turning himself inside out suddenly there was silence. Then the giggling started.

Not me but the guy in the cubicle. First a snigger then a giggle followed by a full blown laugh out loud. Relieved or not I didn't hang around. I expected him to burst forth with his trousers around his ankles laughing uncontrollably, tears streaming from his eyes in happiness. Stay I did not and I left quickly.

Bournemouth on the other had was bathed in glorious sunshine but again after the hours travelling down meant I needed to use the facilities. This time I would rank them as average. I was the only occupant, at least that's what I thought until a burly fluorescent clad hulk of a man appeared in the doorway.

'Howee doone we ya snapper?' he shouted over my shoulder. It appears to most men I appear quite invisible in public conveniences.

'Gimmie a pinch, done two just wanna clip it'. What is this?? Some kind of toilet talk I don't understand? I travel 221 miles starting at four in the morning to stand listening to some new form of descriptive commentary about the toilet habits of a toilet troll. Sheesh. Even more embarrassing was the revelation that now hit me as I turned, the area I was standing in had full view out onto the pavement and any passing old dear could see me, my day was complete before it even started.

So if you decide to use the male conveniences in central Bournemouth do not, I repeat, do not stand on the far right unless you wish to be giggled at mercilessly and pointed at by passing youths. Don't even get me started with the three button all in one soap, wash and dry machine that tries to cover your crotch in all three.

Red

The progression of the hearts in my Impossimal paintings have changed quite a bit over the years, more than I really realised. Going back to 2006 my hearts were more 'pointy' and heavy on the shadows with little or no hint at the curved surface. I didn't mean I didn't like them, to me they looked right, just that I didn't understand what made a heart, hearty. They were also painted using just red, black and white leaving little to experiment with.

Gradually over the year I changed a little and lost the pointedness and added in a bit of orange to liven things up. The heavy shadows were disappearing too and being replaced with a glaze of crimson for depth.

A few years later and the orange was fully integrated into the hearts, white was used for a nice shine and the edges were brightened back up to start to give a 3D feel.

 The next step was to go all 3D and it started with this one, taking everything I had learned I put it all into the heart and glazed it heavily to make it glow. Around the edges a highlight lifted it away from the background. It was nearly there...

 2010 and a piece called Baby Love, originally modelled from clay for the first time I could light and see a true heart shape before I painted it. To get everything right I used charcoal to pop in all the shadows before I started paying attention to the light bouncing back then rapidly placed in the colours starting with the lightest first.

 Once finished it was probably the most accurate to date in terms of shape and form and made a great centrepiece for the painting.

 But this one was completely different. Using a little glass heart that was kindly donated to me by fellow artist  Jurgen Dabeedin of Blue Shift Gallery (http://www.blueshiftgallery.com) I managed to capture the heart shape, tone, reflection and colour all in one giving a true 3D heart.

I had tried 3D hearts before in different positions and although they looked right in the pieces they appeared in now I'm using the little glass heart things are different.

As you can see in this photograph from a piece called celebration, three years between each painting shows a marked difference on something as simple as a heart.

Don't forget this weekend we are back out with the Impossimals in the galleries again, this time at Chelmer Fine Art, Chelmsford, Essex on Saturday 17th March 12-3pm and way down in Bournemouth for an appearance at Westover Gallery on Sunday 18th March 12-3pm.

Chewy

Bunnyopolis has come under attack. Three bunnies with oodles to do, toys to destroy, telephone directories to rip have decided that collectively they want to chew everything they can lay their hands on. A natural instinct and it's good for their teeth I know but boy can they chew. This is the side of Bunnyopolis where every corner has been chamfered to a height of two feet, follow this around the garden an there are no corners left to be seen. Take this morning for example.

Jura walked straight passed the wooden toys, footballs, pretend carrots, plastic bottles filled with stuff and other assorted boredom breakers and went straight for the wood.

 Here she is in full swing, we added these to the mix to try and help, which they do as you can see here, but with three strong willed bunnies whilst one does this...

 Aaran is doing this, whittling away a fence post, meanwhile...

...Iona is going for the most obscure piece of wood, the leg of a small plinth in Bunnyopolis and grinding it down from the inside. To do this she has to turn upside down. Silly bunny.

Bunnies will be bunnies, so we decided to bring in a massive assortment of stuff to act as diversions. But even then they can still be picky. Take this carrot tree for instance, initial reaction was 'great, what do we do with it?' then overnight they plucked off all the carrots and left the parsnip coloured ones alone. Not been touched since. Even funnier was the Thompson and Local directory that we put down for them to shred. Again it was ignored until a few nights ago when we went in and two corners of pages had been ripped out and left, one was the index for, weirdly, abattoirs and the other was vets, seriously. What were the chances of that happening? There must be like 300 pages and they choose these two to tear out.

But then you turn around and see sights like this, Aaran, Jura and Iona, three happy bunnies doing bunny things, wood can be replaced and I'd have it no other way.

Salty Sea Dog

I'm sat in bed limply trying to bash this out on my laptop after my cold decided to turn into a full blown fever yesterday afternoon. Not sure if it was blogging about cosmic cats or Colin the dog that triggered it but by 3pm I was well and truly joining them with my overheated brain and entered la-la land for a few hours.

So today, the first day in many, many years indeed, is an enforced duvet day.

I'm bored.

I can't stomach daytime TV, my head throbs too much to read and trying to rest just makes me think about working. So, instead of writing today's blog to the sound of pounding hammers in my head here's one I prepared earlier...

A long time ago in the late 80's both myself and Jayne were walking at dusk along the seafront in Blackpool, skilfully avoiding the staggering drunks and looking in dismay at the promenades festival of litter when an old salty looking seadog stepped out from the shadows of one of the piers and thrust a small booklet in my hand.

'10p gov'nr' he growled.

What can I say, I was naive, inexperienced in tackling with salty seadogs and possibly fearing some nautical based violence involving hooks and a demented parrot so I fumbled around my pockets and pulled out a piece of silver. Well, 10p anyway. It was snatched out of my hand with a practised swipe and he hobbled away on what I'm sure was a wooden leg. Come to think of it he smelt of rum too. Pirates of Blackpool Pier doesn't really sound exotic enough though does it.

I had completely forgot about the booklet and now looked at it through a fading light. Old Moore's Almanack for the year of 1987 that looked like this. Apart from the date obviously.

Published since 1697 and put together by Francis Moore who was a self-taught physician to the court of Charles II It was really quite amazing that it was still being published. Essentially it was a collection of tide tables, moon phases, a list of fairs and events, forecasts for farmers, fishermen and the like all topped off with its centre piece, a month by month prediction of world events. Not bad for 10p, I never knew things like this existed and the strange way it entered my hands almost made it more intriguing.

So imagine my surprise to find it still going strong in the digital age. Gone are the shady seadogs plying it's trade on promenades this time you can buy it everywhere, although the price of predictions like everything else has suffered and now costs £2.50 to be enlightened. OK, so it's like a drunken stab in the dark at times but it's a little quirky and now includes Lucky Dates To Play Bingo, The Thunderball Astro-Guide, Greyhound Racing Numbers, Gardening By The Moon (I kid you not) and one that we have been waiting for Lighting Up Times For Vehicle Lamps. Oh, and oodles of adverts that include a book on Sugar Spells, Candle Burning Rituals that will leave you amazed, one to buy 'The Book of Forbidden Knowledge' , the strangely out of place 'Plot, Pots or Growbags' the A-Z of growing Veg and of course Derek Acorah one of  three 'Britains' favourites advertising in the same edition.

I love this kind of thing and have nothing against anybodies beliefs but I was so inspired by Old Moore's I have decided to publish Old Smiths Tongue in Cheek Almanacky Stroligistic 2012, a predictive guide to your world right here on todays blog.

Several full moons this year falling on the cusp of Scorpios elbow and falls in Libras twelfth house will call forth a large pink hovering pig that will float aimlessly above Milton Keynes before spontaneously combusting during the Jubilee celebrations showering five counties with free bacon. A half moon in July in conjunction with Plutos Uranus square to Mars gives a distinct possibility of rain at some point in the month and I will even go as far to pinpoint it's location as somewhere in Scotland.

In April an ascending  New Moon hints at the possibility of a celebration accompanied by eggs, I cannot predict this exactly as I'm out on a limb with this but it will involve chocolate and a partial lunar eclipse shows two large ears and a fluffy tail. Only time will tell if I am correct on this one. July is interesting, I see five 'hoops' after studying Aquarius in a trine to Mars, the planetary picture is positive but I see little in the way of gold coming to the UK.

In August Virgo hits an all time high and it is revealed that Big Ben is actually Thunderbird 6, controlled by puppets in the adjoining Westminster. There will be a popular uprising and the puppets will be packed into Big Ben and launched high into the sky where, like a firework, they will explode. It will also be the month of Early Chrimbodosso where mysteriously large tins of Quality Street will appear in supermarkets throughout the land.

September will be a moonless month and revelations will appear to support claims that Roly, the dog from Eastenders first episode was actually Michael Flatley, a claim supported by the story line when Roly trampled (tapped danced more like) over Arthur Fowlers prized leeks in a bid to show off. It will also be revealed that cheese can now be made without animals using old socks and bits of melted recycled plastic, something they have been doing for years and the real reason for recycling bins.

December, I see nothing special about December at all.

Octomembersaur is a new month that will be introduced in 2013 to cope with the revelation that mathematicians have still not agreed to adding in the leap second. Calculated back through time we are now in the age of the dinosaurs and require a new month of 40,000 years to bring us back in line. New fashions will include stone clubs, square wheels and of course the iCave, a dwelling hewn out of solid rock.

Your Lucky Lottery Numbers Are - 12,25,23,35,38,39
All are guaranteed to come up!!!!*

*At some point, in some lottery and not in this order, use of these numbers forms a contract between me and you. All winnings above £1 must be shared with me.

So all in all 2012 looks to be an exciting year!**

**Predictions may vary from ones given and I predict they may even be completely different, which as a prediction is a pretty accurate prediction so my predictions are of course valid.

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High Sniff

I think I knew yesterday morning that something was amiss. A strange tickling feeling at the back of my throat coupled with a mild ache hinted that all was not right. After a shocking nights sleep I have awoken with a full blown cold and hacking cough to match. My nose is bright red and full of snot, I have watery eyes and feel achy and sleepy.

Great.

Not the best of starts to Tuesday especially as I have such a lot to do today. Doing anything with a cold is like running through glue, mental processes become more muddled and anything a little physical feels draining. Hankies pile up, tablets are popped and the feel sorry for yourself feeling kicks in. See, even this blog entry feels miserable so lets brighten it up a little and take a look at a few new entries to the pet present hall of fame.

 Catnip bubbles! Wow, really send kitty bonkers, can you imagine the mayhem?

I'm not saying kitty in this video has tried them but imagine this ten fold, entire rooms will become shredded paper, cats will be hanging off the ceiling whilst others will be laid on their back chilling and wondering if there really is a dog. Cosmic man.

 Still, bunny teeth for dogs this Easter looks cool, not quite sure the dog thinks so. Shortly after this was taken Colin the Labrador ripped off his ears, spat out the teeth and proceeded to eat all the treat filled eggs. He was found two hours later with a treat induced high partying with the cosmic cats on the roof, he had turned his bunny ears upside down to make himself look like a four petal flower with his real ears. One of the kitties was wearing his teeth and pretending to be Tom Cruise.

Then things got really weird with Mr Whippy, a battery operated tormentor that attaches to any door handle and proceeds to 'whip' a flexible tail randomly. Pretty soon a posse of cosmic cats had attached themselves to the string for the ride of their lives as they were whipped around the furniture, bouncing off windows and ornaments whilst purring in chorus Meeeeeeoooowww Maaaaannn. The trip was halted suddenly as doped up dog Colin attached himself to the end, one particularly strong 'whip' threw Colin out of the window dragging Mr Whippy and the possy of kitties with him. They were all last seen orbiting Pluto leaving behind a rainbow trail that we originally thought was an increase in solar activity last week but turned out to be the newly named Colin Comet with Kitty Tail.

Colds are cool, either that or I have overdosed on Night Nurse.

Sherlock At The Seaside

Not all paintings start out the same way, certain ideas change as I hit obstacles whilst others change direction completely, none more so that Edisons Sherlock Sidewinder. Originally, after looking through my notes, I wanted to capture childhood seaside memories and tie the sidewinder back to a gentler time when visiting the seaside was in it's infancy. Bathing booths, stripy swimwear that covered everything and walks along the prom featured heavily during the Victorian era so my 'Twistory' idea was a slippery sidewinder found on a beach and admired greatly for it's elegance and poise but also cause controversy with it's incessant wriggling, a wriggling caused it to be eventually accused of being immoral and ultimately featured in the trial of the rector of Stiffkey in 1932 as part of his defence.

 So, it was sketched out complete with accompanying shells, starfish and lighthouse, all essential to a seaside scene.

 I even went as far as producing a quick oil sketch in muted tones to get a feel for it before I committed to painting.

 It felt right so off I went, roughly painting in the beach and sky, even the glass bowl started to look right as I painted in the curvature. Obviously it still needed an immense amount of work when I suddenly blanked. I mean really blanked. I knew what I wanted but that little image in my head had disappeared, no longer could I see the seaside, no longer could I see the sidewinder. Painting stopped for two weeks whilst I thought about it a little longer but it never returned.

 After those two weeks I went back to my list of memories I had written down a year earlier, seaside was still there but underneath it was the 'Sherlock Holmes', my favourite books from my childhood. The 'Twistory' started to build in my mind and the image of the sidewinder popped back into my head, this time though there was no beach, no starfish and no lighthouses, instead was a thinking sidewinder, a thinking sidewinder with a deerstalker hat and a pipe, deep in thought on a library shelf. The vision was back so I set too and produced this rough sepia field sketch.

 With the setting being indoors it made it easier to imagine so out came the props, in this case several old painting books, a glass flower bowl, some stiff wire, marbles, water and a plasticine magnifying glass complete with cling film lens.

 The next bit was a little easier, modelling the Sherlock Sidewinder, balancing it on an old brush held between two books and using the stiff wire as a counterweight to keep it upright. The whole scene was lit from the left to get maximum effect from the light through the water filled bowl and onto the books.

 That done it was sketched onto a prepared black coated board ready for it's first coat.

 Because I knew the light was going to be tricky I painted in the sidewinder first, the smoke needed to be done wet on wet so that was added too ready for the pipe to be painted in a little later.

 Using the black background I painted out from the deep dark tones and built up the glow gradually, you can see from this shot the tones through the glass are quite intense in areas and muted in others depending on the amount of colour I added on to of the black. If you look closely you can see especially in the glass bowl that the whole board was also heavily textured, this extra bit of detail allowed me to pool shellac in the areas to help with the ageing process at the end.

Many, many layers of glazing later the whole piece rose out of the black into full colour, all the lights had been captured to the best of my ability and the plasticine, sellotape roll and cling film magnifying glass didn't look too bad either. One final trick was to grind away some of the paint on the table to simulate wood grain and fill it back up using french polish, shellac coats the surface and then wiped off quickly leaving little feint pools in the texture. From seaside to shelf, from sidewinder to Sherlock, Edison's Sherlock Sidewinder was finished.

Mowing Down

 It's about this time of the year that the bigger powertools come out to play, with grass to cut, strimming to strim and hedges to trim. Some of the more beefier tools are prone to peculiarities though. The petrol strimmer for instance requires me to memorise a six sequence startup comprising of two switches, a bulb pump, a two stage throttle and a twin grip, all this so I can whip a few bits of grass into shape occasionally. Once started this beast becomes uncontrollable, the sheer power of the head makes it sway at speed and you find heads of flowers scattered everywhere you walk as it dips and takes bites out of everything around. Apparently I can get an attachment that would allow me to cut hedges which sounds fun but from past experience I can imagine I could inflict some wondrous injuries upon myself.

It was only in 2007 when I stepped in a small hole and nearly broke my ankle, in 2008 I managed to narrowly miss cutting the power cable with the powersaw and only last year building Bunnyopolis I managed to accumulate  so many scuffs and cuts on my arms and hands I looked liked I'd tumbled out of a tree and hit every branch on the way down. I even fell head first off the deck and into Bunnyopolis one night giving me such a deep cut in my leg that I still have the scar is still visable today.

 Anyway, injuries aside now the days are getting lighter and slightly dare I say it, warmer, the rest of the summerhouse contents get an airing. It's probably typical of most peoples garages and sheds, shelves full of paint and paintbrushes for the Easter DIY mania that engulfs the UK and sport and games equipment for the sunnier days. Looks like it needs a bit of a tidy up though, I'm sure that tin of Crown paint at the bottom has been there since 2000, come to think about it when did I buy those matchpots?

No tidying up this weekend though because on Saturday (10th) between 12-3pm we are at the wondrous Acorn Gallery in Pocklington.

 And on Sunday (11th) between 12-3pm we are here at the also wondrous Original Art Shop in Preston

So it looks like the shelves will have to stay that way for another few days at least when I'm sure I would have forgotten about them again and will act all surprised in another few weeks when I discover them still there.

Ooops, nearly forgot, the appearance at Trident Galleries in Leicester has moved, it's now a month earlier on Sunday 29th April between 12-3pm, and before I forget again, two new dates have been added, one in Glasgow and the other at Treeby & Bolton in Keswick, Cumbria. Full details on my website.

Demis Roussos

Cocktail sausages and the aroma of them filled the studio today as I constructed part of Abigail's Disco Tailed Peruvian Party Python environment. It's all well and good watching what you eat but leaning over half a dozen bite sized portions is still difficult and resisting the urge to sample one or two was very tempting indeed, even more so when they sat leaning against the cheese and pineapple sticks. I know the sausage above looks a little odd but it's just the base coat, further coats will apply a glaze to make it look fatty and tasty.

Once the scene was constructed the whole environment was taken outside and placed in the grass to add to the realism, the sun, or lack of it added to the look and once everything was positioned I snapped away with the camera for the right look. The python itself was constructed as usual out of plasticine and needed several matchstick supports to hold it together, especially as it's linked rather dubiously using pipe cleaners. It did loose a few links along the way as I realised I was going to need a fifty inch long canvas only nine inches high, scaling it back to a more manageable thirty eight inches looked better anyway.

Whilst rummaging in the grass I came across this little chap inspecting my python. I haven't the foggiest where he has come from or where indeed he was heading, anything remotely watery is a fair hop away, maybe he was just a little lost or fancied a sausage, we will never know because as quick as he came he disappeared when I turned my back, very mysterious. Gathering up all my things I returned indoors to the heady smell of cheese and pineapple. Maybe just one sausage after all. Nom, nom, nom.

Did I say one? Oh well, I must have misheard myself, I could have sworn I said finish them off.