The second snow day for this year and I finally managed to drag myself to the basement to rework a nasty, looking piece I had abandoned months ago. Anyone that knows me, knows that pink roses are my favourite. Instead of a soft arrangement I opted for one large, dripping bloom. I don't know what it is about drips but I just can't get enough of them. No painting of mine seems complete unless it has been splattered and dripped on. When on teaching practice at Lancaster Girls Grammar, the A-level students were dripping left and right and there was just such a beauty in the unfinished, rolling drops of paint that I knew I wanted to capture that within my own work. Now 8 years later I am still allowing great globs of paint and water to adorn my canvas.
I'm not sure where this piece will settle but for now it is above my bed.
Below is where the "magic" happens! My dark, dimly-lit basement. Perhaps one day I will have a beautiful white washed art shed complete with a squeaky screen door. Until then my little nook in the basement will have to do.