Twenty five years ago I took a few photos of my firstborn’s hand on my hand. Since then I’ve made drawings from the least blurry pictures, and transferred one of those to a little piece of lino. Sketches and lino blocks go missing during house moves and home improvement projects.
Finally, after years of dithering, I have cut enough of this lino to make a test print. It might benefit from more little dots in the background and a different colour ink but that’s for another day.
This began as a sketch for a black and white linocut a few years ago. Various interruptions later, it’s been coloured with pencils, biros and watercolour crayons. Not finished yet…
A bit of urban sketching, except it’s drawn from a photo I took on a sunnier day last week.
I wonder if others see an attractive corner shop, or maybe a cafe. It might be that people like me, who cannot see the ‘unique’ history of the town I live in, can only see derelict buildings here. Optimists will see the potential for improvement.
This building should be a time travel portal, or at least a gateway to another dimension.
Linocut, 7 x 15cm approx. After the test print I noticed she has a nosebleed. Maybe this is a long lost part of that Lincolnshire folk tale about roses drinking blood.
I’ve knitted a lot of hats. They disappear when needed. I thought the family cyclist should have a bright hat for any smidsy moments. The neon orange yarn I bought in the 1980s would be too painful alone, so pairing it with black stripes might be better. There again, a spiral could be interesting…
The Maths for this is easy in theory, moving each colour over by one stitch on every row. In practice I’ve had to stop and think occasionally. Knitting in the round usually involves spiralling upward, rather than the to & fro of two needles. This time, I have to remember to slip the first stitch of the colour, then pick it up on the return journey. There are obviously other methods but this is ok for the moment.
Sorting out the room that could be a studio. Found an old sketchbook. I remember sitting in the garden drawing these sheets.
When I was a teenager, a swarm of bees appeared at the end of the garden. The neighbours were very nervous but the bees were only interested in themselves. A beekeeper arrived to collect the swarm. They seemed very pleased to see him, crawling all over his white suit. I had been happily taking photos from underneath the cloud of bees. I wouldn’t have ventured so close to them if I’d known they interacted with humans like that.
I enjoyed cutting a little raincloud lino block. For once, patchy inking helped the image to shine!
Which unfinished project have I been attending to, you ask? The Novel, obviously! While editing the numerous versions, I’ve been knitting a cardigan. It’s been unravelled and cast on again a few times but maybe the pattern makes sense at last…
I drew the pattern on squared paper, because I couldn’t follow the written version. Then I had to add colours to give a sense of which row etc.
Knitting chart with tea stains
Can’t see the leaves for the stitches(?)
Every year this poor pot loses another coil. A bit of his ear has gone.
