Words of the Day: I can see clearly now the rain has gone...
I may have been a little over-enthusiastic about the whole spring thing. Actually, a lot over-enthusiastic. It snowed a little bit, quite a lot in some areas of the country. But this time I think it may really be happening. The sun's out, the weather's relatively warm, and there are a lot of ducks swimming around in the ponds on the way to work. This might well be 'it'.
Beyond that, I have little to say for myself, other than to inform you (like anyone reads this) that I have decided to take on the biggest piece of artwork I've ever attempted. I'm a small page kind of artist - I do clever little things with sharp pencils on thin paper, and stick them in my portfolio thing. At a stretch, I'll dabble with CGI, watercolours and sometimes some acrylic on canvas. Nothing much beyong about A3 size. I've done two large things in my life. Two. One of those was such a spectacular failure that was binned almost as soon as it was finished. A great concept, a horribly flawed execution. The second was something a little out of left field. I built a table - large and functional, and decided that it needed livening up a little. Thus, I took one of my favourite images, the eyes and patterning thereabouts of a jaguar cub, and translated them to one half of the table. I would estimate the picture at about 3ft by 2ft. Not massive, by anyone's standards, except for that bloke who makes sculptures on the head of a pin. But, until now, I have not even considered something massive. Ok, so that's not 100% true, but I've never actually sat down and started planning the thing. Last night I did sit down, and I started planning something big. Many of you will be familiar with the painting Whaam! by Roy Lichtenstein, possibly the greatest proponent of the pop art movement (and before you start screaming Andy Warhol, have a look at what Lichtenstein did and see if you still disagree). It's pretty much his most famous work, and has been a favourite of mine for some years. There's some horribly simple about the piece - it's both adult and childish at the same time, dealing with the horror of war in a cartoon strip. I've decided this would be the perfect large project work for me to attempt. The original is 269cm wide, 172 high, and I'm seriously tempted to paint it at full scale. Very handily, Lichtenstein painted his original on two canvasses, which means I don't have to try to find a single canvas big enough. I'll let you know how I get on...