Sketches

Sketches, studio wall, January 2013

I have decided this year to take you through the processes I go through from planning to painting.  This is a snap shot of some ideas for the 2013 Cossack Art Awards held annually in the historic town of Cossack.  At 1600 km north of Perth, the information booklet that accompanies the entry form claims it is "the most isolated acquisitive art exhibition in the world."

Cossack was the first port in the North West and grew to a population of over 400 by 1894, helped primarily by the growth of the pearling industry and the Pilbara gold rush of the late 1880's.  By the turn of the century the port proved too small to accommodate larger shipping vessels and the pearling fleet relocated to Broome.  The gold rush had diminished and by 1910 the Municipality of Cossack was dissolved.  By the early 1950's the town was virtually abandoned and now only accommodates back packers.  The old Post and Telegraph Office and the Bond store were restored, and now house the hundreds of entries for the annual award.

The above are my initial sketches for a painting based on maps of Cossack.  I am not happy with any of them.  The land division in Cossack was grid-like, despite its hilly, rocky outcrops.  This is quite obviously reflected in the sketches.  I have since ordered two topographic maps of Roebourne in the hope of finding something more organic.  I have tried to obtain some of the historical land maps of Cossack, however gaining copies of them proved difficult.  Such is the planning process.

Gilbert

Gilbert, 40x40cm acrylic on canvas

Meet Gilbert.  Gilbert is a painting of the control tower and heliport in Port Hedland.  Gilbert now resides in the much cooler (both weather and chic) locale of Launceston.   Gilbert is a parting gift for a very dear friend of mine who helped me adjust to the pilbra lifestyle, and not only helped me survive Port Hedland, but made me re-examine and re-think my opinions and values.  And she introduced me to roller derby.

I will miss you dearly Germaine - as will Charlie who is very fond of you.

Span

                                         Track 2012, acrylic on canvas 50x50cm

This painting is currently in transit on its way to Stockroom in Kyneton, Victoria.  I have entered it  in a competition titled Span.  Span is a group exhibition exploring connection, distance, and the passage of time.  The painting is of the the dirt tracks on the sand beds around the pony club near Pretty Pool.

To Succeed or not to Succeed

Recently I was asked to post a blog on a Facebook site called Storylane.  It has been set up with the idea of bringing together people who blog about their lives - in some form or another.  The following question was proposed to me - a standard for anyone who has joined.  When blogging you can either choose to answer one of many proposed questions or write your own account.  When I woke up this morning I didn't really feel like cleaning the bathroom, so I sat down and typed this instead.

“What does it feel like to have started your own company?  How do you succeed?”

To Succeed or not to Succeed

An interesting topic, given that I have never really started my own company.  Yet this is a topic I have given plenty of thought to.  Recently I have come to think of myself more as a not for profit organisation, in that I no longer sell a product, rather I give it away.

I am an artist, although even calling myself that is something I often debate.  Surely to be an artist you need talent and skill and recognition and sales?  I think my last five tax returns I have posted a $0 income.  I am at the point where every time I pick up a paintbrush it is actually costing me money.  When I started painting and studying art at university it was with the carefree abandon that you have when you are young and naive.  My stretches (the wooden bars you stretch the canvas over) were hand made and never square (right angle anyone?) and I used to score the canvas and paint over it, making the pigment seep through to the other side (which in time will disintegrate the canvas, a conservators nightmare).  And they sold.

Twenty years later I paint on linen (when I can afford it) stretched over professionally made stretches and apply paint with labored precision.  Yet have no gallery representation and I have not sold a painting in five years.  Actually, that is not true.  I did sell a painting at a solo exhibition I had at a gallery in Sydney.  Unfortunately I was unaware that the gallery director did not pay her artists and months after my show she closed her gallery and vanished without paying the thousands of dollars she owed to her creatives.  She also effectively stole one of my paintings and when she eventually returned the remaining paintings, two were damaged beyond repair (wooden stretcher bars smashed).  But I digress; this is a story about success.

I must say at times it is difficult to understand why I continue.  I think it is the same reason as why I began.  I love painting.  Regardless of whether people/ galleries like it or not, I think it is something that is intrinsic to my being.  I have a belief that to succeed as an artist you need to succeed at networking.  In my opinion the art world is all about the Who and not the What.  Frankly, I am not a team player.  I don't particularly like the 'scene' and I prefer the corner to the spotlight.  While at times it is frustrating and annoying that I don't sell, it is also my rationale that I don't spend the hours applying myself to the business models.  In fact, when it comes to making money, there are a great many things I don't do.  What I do is paint.

And success?  Well how do you measure success anyway?  Profit margins and bottom lines or degrees happiness and personal achievements?  So do I consider myself successful?  Well, no.  Would I consider myself more successful if I sold paintings in a gallery?  That is difficult to answer because I also wonder whether I would succumb to the pressure of producing paintings that sell?  I am not a company I am self-employed and as such I have no one to answer to but myself.  As for how do you succeed, I don't think I can answer that, but my suggestion would be persistence.  Persistence, resilience and a bloody thick skin.

Arid Beauty

Spinifex

Bougainvillea

Port

Well dear followers, it may amuse you to know that I have entered a photographic competition.  Arid Beauty, organised by Care for Hedland Environmental Association and The Water Corporation is a competition held in association with National Water Week.  The above are my entries for the categories - in descending order Arid Landscapes, Flora and Fauna and Conserving and Valuing Water in an Arid Environment.  The photos were enlarged to somewhere around A4 size - being an expert in photography I am overly familiar with the size of paper and choose to use laymen terms for those of you less familiar.  They were then mounted onto foam core and framed with mount card.

These are the descriptions I gave for each entry:

Spinifex:  The hardy and resilient spinifex reflects the harsh environment it lives in, yet its presence in the landscape can also reflect something of beauty.

Bougainvillea:  Although essentially a weed, and a thorny one at that, the colour and intensity of the bougainvillea flower is one that always dominates its surroundings.

Port: The Indian Ocean and the shipping industry is the life-blood of Port Hedland, connecting it to Asia and ultimately the world.   It also nurtures the life of the turtles, whales and sharks that migrate through these waters.

The photos are to be displayed at the newly re-opened Wanangkura Centre in South Hedland from 22 - 26 of October and the finalists will be displayed at the West End Markets on Saturday 27 October where the winners will be announced.  Given the amount of talented photographers in the area I really don't expect to be a finalist, but the photographs will more than act as a reminder of my 5am walks and our time living in the Pilbara.

This is a link to some of the other entries http://www.facebook.com/#!/groups/337433573017091/

Twenty by Twenty

Dawn 20x20cm acrylic on canvas

Sunrise 20x20cm acrylic on canvas

Night Lights 20x20cm acrylic on canvas

These paintings were inspired by my morning walks.  Yes I am one of those crazy people that wake up at 5am to go walking every morning.  I enjoy it.  I love the cool air and the quiet.  But I especially love watching the sky change from an inky black to the pastels of the pre-dawn.

Curiously enough, these paintings began with the intention of being aerial landscapes.  They are the result of several thought patterns that connected one afternoon.  After attending a judges walk through of the Hedland Art Awards, I realised that a number of indigenous artworks were created by painting bright colours on a black background.  In my work I always paint on white, and sometimes even paint an extra three coats of white on a pre-primed surface.  

I had also been inspired by an aerial painting of tyre tracks in the desert which is both lively and lucid.  It reminded me of the Landgate website I found last year when I was researching maps of Port Hedland.  I had intended combining the two to create a painting from the computer, but I also had the images in my mind of my morning walks.  I guess they won.  What I find kind of ironic is that I had painted these images fourteen years earlier, horizon lines, seascapes, sunrises.

I am yet to return to the computer to paint, and who knows, maybe I won't.  I guess I will wait for the inspiration to hit me again.

https://www.landgate.wa.gov.au/bmvf/app/mapviewer/#  Zoom in over the flood plains for a bit of excitement.

Also, visit my photo album on Facebookhttp://www.facebook.com/siobhan.kelley72?ref=tn_tnmn

Pilbara plein air

Salt Pile 20x25cm, acrylic on canvas board

Dry Lake Bed 15x20cm, acrylic on canvas board

palette

It's a funny thing.  When you think of the pilbara you think red dirt, and lots of it.  But this morning I sat down along the roadside to paint the really big pile of salt (read enormous) from across the dusty flats where Pretty Pool Creek winds its way inland.  Although I drive passed there almost everyday, it only occurred to me this morning when I sat down to paint, how green it is.  Not only that, the earth is not red.  Not in the dry river flats.  They are sandy.  Raw sienna mixed with naples yellow.

The other funny thing that happened to me today is two people I know saw me painting.  This is a first time event because I usually only painting 'plein air' when I am on holidays.  But I promised a friend a painting of the pilbara and I have been wanting to paint Port Hedland since I have been here, I have just always found an excuse not too - too hot, too many flies, too windy, no one to look after Charlie... (Ella is at school for all of you who were about to call the Department of Human Services).  

The final funny is that after approximately an hour and a half in the sun and wind, I had enough.  I packed up, disappointed with two really lousy paintings wondering if this is the point where I just give up.  At home I pulled out the paintings and the palette to fix a little spot that was annoying me and found myself spending another hour in the kitchen repainting.  The skies were not right on either of them - I know, how hard can it be to paint a blue sky?  You'd be surprised.  I also retouched the foreground on both paintings and repainted the salt pile, which was a insipid white, to a bolder (slightly less insipid) white.

I'm not sure what I am going to do with these paintings.  I have considered doing many and trying to sell them at the local craft market.  Or maybe I will keep them as a reminder of my time in Port Hedland.  The more I look at them the less I like them, but that is often the way it goes.