Another month has passed and I’m feeling excited about the opportunity a new year brings - and a little trepidation too. January always surprises me. After all the excitement of Christmas and New Year, I feel relaxed and ready to hibernate, longing to immerse myself in paint, pencils and canvases.
And yet… January is rarely as quiet or event-free as I imagine it might be. There’s always more going on than expected. Though I have been making time for painting and drawing, in fact I've a sketch on the go of Ed. That is, my husband Ed for those who don't know him. It's the second sketch and I'm happy to work away on the likeness. It's getting there slowly..
I'm sketching him for now as studies for a later painting..though I'm itching to get the paints out immediately for it. It's another lesson in not letting everything bolt out the gate instantaneously. It'll all get stuck at the gate and go no further. I’m still finding it difficult to give it enough space for things to flow properly. It’s a slow realisation that I need to compartmentalise better. I’ve decided to block out Thursdays and Fridays specifically for painting, and I know I’ll need to protect that time if I’m to enjoy the results I’m hoping for.
Nevertheless, I have begun some new work, which makes me very happy. I have tonnes of images stacked away in my mind, and on the first day I found it hard to decide just where to begin. I’ve been waiting so long for the opportunity that the choice itself felt overwhelming. I even experienced a little stage fright - despite there being no audience at all, besides of course, your good selves.❤️
I think my head simply got ahead of itself and spooked me. Between stretches of drawing and painting, I sometimes wonder if I can still do it at all. Then I start… and it’s fine. It’s always been like this, and somehow I conveniently forget that every single time.
That said, let me tell you about my current muse - Tango.
Tango is a cute, courageous little cat of about a year old, with a small frame and a big presence. Over time, he’s adopted us. As his name suggests, his coat is a warm orange with patches of white, and even his eyes are yellow. When he first started coming around, he was tiny, with delicate features and a very particular way of dealing with the bigger cats.
He would puff himself up to look enormous, go stiff from nose to tail, emit a series of high-pitched noises, and slowly - but threateningly - turn his head while keeping a wary eye on his opponent, as if to say, “If you even dare, I’ll… I’ll…”
Of course, the other cats had no intention of eating him at all. He was just frightened. And yet, even so, he’d still come inside to snooze on a bed or chomp on some kibble. Each day he made another small advance toward where he really wanted to be - inside. Especially with the toys he'd spotted one day.. Much like when as a child you knew who's toy box held great things you might only dream of.
It was endlessly amusing to watch him perch in a spot usually occupied by someone else, and even funnier when he made a beeline for the toys after catching a glimpse of them during one brave sortie into the ‘cave’. Just like a child might. I managed to get a few great photos of him mid-antics, and for a while now I’ve had it in mind to create a few pieces inspired by this little character.
He’s growing fast and no longer quite so defensive. He now lines up with the others for cuddles and pets, though he still keeps one eye out for danger. Occasionally he oversteps with one of the more senior cats and receives a gentle swipe to put him back in line, but otherwise there’s very little conflict. Sometimes he’ll reverse into the group for pets rather than diving straight in - and once he’s there, he’s perfectly happy to have his head stroked like the rest.
I’m delighted to have chosen him as a subject. In a way, this is his time. He’s still very much a kitten, and it feels lovely to focus on him for a while and to quietly celebrate his arrival in our lives. I’ve just begun a preliminary painting, which I haven’t fully solidified yet - I may even change the base if it doesn’t sit right. Alongside this comes that familiar, irksome feeling I get at the beginning of a new piece: so many decisions, so many possibilities. It can make me feel quite queasy.
All that aside, I’m thrilled. You can see the very beginnings of the piece in the image here. I don’t usually show work this early, so we’ll see how it goes. It may put me off - and if it does, I’ll learn from that and change how I approach things next time. For now, I’m willing to try.
Thank you for reading this little vignette of what’s currently afoot in my studio.
Warm wishes until next time,
Amanda
