Flippin’ Floppin’ Bunny-rabbit bonnets! How is it almost Easter and where did the months go?
It’s almost impossible to keep pace with personal events, never mind national and global antics.
Perhaps it was always the same; a war raging somewhere and social unrest at varying degrees almost everywhere else. Strange politics; inadequate and broken public services; Chinese robot invasions; celebrity hogwash and posh climate activists pestering Van Gogh (Just stop THAT).
Nothing is new, is it? not even climate change. The only difference is that the digital age makes us more aware of the issues, if not the actual facts. Social media has, depending on your view, become a monstrous information tornado, tearing through the last vestiges of blissful ignorance.
It is said that we are never more than 20ft from a rat; similarly, in the hunt for reasoned debate and discussion, I’ve noticed that we are only ever two comments away from a vicious online insult. In an increasingly polarised community, and even when unfailingly polite, I have drawn significant ire from strangers. Lately, I’ve even been accused of fascism. It’s quite startling to be described as a ‘nazi’ for having made comments about, among other things, what a female is (a rare subject on which I feel fully qualified to comment). It begs the question of whether the people who instantly reach for these extreme terms, know anything at all about History? Do they really think that a middle-aged woman with a paintbrush is capable of secretly organising a violent putsch? Of destroying democracy in her tea break? The menopause does tend to make one a little short on patience at times, but it hasn’t yet got so out of hand that I’ve engaged in a spot of ethnic cleansing between canvasses.
On my own official art page and, apropos of nothing, a person furiously declared that I had never painted figures with ‘facial disabilities’. This proves, apparently, that I was not the ‘inclusive’ artist I claimed to be. I’m not sure I have ever claimed anything of the sort, but it says something about ultra-heightened sensitivities of the 21st Century. It’s hard to imagine, for example, that back during the 1700’s, a painter such as George Stubbs, who exclusively painted horses, would have been attacked for discriminating against cows.
However, in case you need it, I give you fair warning that the following image may be potentially triggering:
Enough is enough. For a while, I am stepping back from social media engagement which is not about art. Not itself exempt from controversy – far from it, but I’ll save my thoughts about NFTs and bananas taped to walls, for another day.
While jotting down these words I was reminded that in posts of yore, I would report back from exhibitions. This activity stopped around the outbreak of covid. Maybe it’s time to re-instate reviews and corresponding gallery café/cake ratings. For now, I’ll simply offer you these delightful trompe l’oeil paintings found on a recent trek around the fishing village of Staithes, North Yorkshire:
Please also accept this giant inflatable bottom. I discovered this cheeky item in the Gala Theatre exhibition space in the city of Durham. There was no cake 0/10
More Car Fun
If you have read older posts, you might remember the less than impressive motoring incidents of last year.
Following yet another collision just after Christmas (not my fault this time) and while my jalopy was being repaired, I was given a brand new, top of the range BMW. Who thought that was a good idea?
When it comes to cars, I’ve been digging in my heels about automatics and electric vehicles for years. No doubt this confession will make me a ‘gammon on wheels’. This was my first ever drive of an automatic. A very patient young man showed me how to use TV sized digital display and, correctly reading his audience, asked me if I’d like the heated seat and steering wheel switched on ? But of course! My own car has no such fancy features and so, on the first really warm day of the year, I finally had a fast-heating car.
Have I been living under a rock? To a person with Raynaud’s phenomenon (very poor circulation in extremities) the hot wheel was a gift from heaven. Despite myself, I quite enjoyed the automatic feature too.
Becoming dangerously accustomed to this divine vehicle, I began to realise somewhere along the A19 northbound, that it was getting rather too hot. Not daring to tamper with the digital hub in case I activated an ejector seat, I did the sensible thing and pulled over while I found the correct buttons to turn the down the ferocious temperature of my hands and bottom. It was all very nice while it lasted but my war-wounded Volvo has (unfortunately) been returned.
It has become painfully clear that cars, like cats, seem to have left me behind…
Double Sadness
Recently, I lost both of my fur children. Piglet and Betty-Kitten were both 18 and have left a considerable void in the house. I say ‘house’, because without animals or people (I live alone) it is no home.
There have been resident animals everywhere I’ve lived for almost 54 years, so it is hard to come home to none. It is a surprise to find that I even miss the sound of Betty extravagantly kicking cat-litter all over the kitchen floor.
The loss is particularly poignant as I create my next collection of paintings with the theme of ‘home’. Anyone who ever thought about it, knows that a home isn’t simply bricks and mortar. It is a condition of the soul. That is why I was drawn to explore further. In time, I’ll find new companions and look forward to the pitter patter of four paws by my side.
Commissions
I’m behind schedule. This isn’t because of elaborate planning for the invasion of a neighbouring European country…honest… I’ve also been painting my way through long since commissioned works.
Here are some of those:
And finally…
An apology
During the ruthless cull of my social media. I was busy rummaging through settings and discovered a whole thread of messages relating to my public art pages on Facebook and Instagram. These messages had mysteriously found their way into a hidden folder, unseen and unanswered. I can only offer my sincere apologies to anyone who sent kind words, enquiries and art photographs (the messages date back to 2017).
Hopefully no such problem will occur again, but if ever you want to contact me, I would still recommend email via this website and you should receive a response a little quicker than 8 years.
In the meantime, I will try and supress tendencies to build a Fourth Reich and keep painting for an exhibition.
Thank you for being here and there and…everywhere. Throw yourself into the joyous arrival of spring!
Love,
Sarah-Jane
Ps For those interested, I’m aware there is a real shortage of available prints on this website now. We are down to a tiny remaining few while deciding what comes next…but something most certainly will.