What’s the bravest thing you’ve ever done when no one was watching?
I don’t believe I have ever done anything remotely brave. Witnessed or not. Were I to contemplate bravery I think I would choose to do it with no one watching in case I failed or misread the situation and bravery was not required. I am also someone who immediately devalues something if I achieve it. So if I was both brave and successful. I would immediately recalibrate the situation to one that required no courage at all.
5 years ago I would have considered swimming in the sea in England in December as the action of someone who was either brave or daft
After 5 years of doing it I know that cold sea swimming is a pretty daft hobby . Definitely on the lower end of the Brave/ Daft spectrum.
I know my place and am brave enough to say that daft is where I sit most comfortably.
I like the idea of art that knocks you off your feet. Gillian Ayres
Early September is my time to catch up with Summer exhibitions. This year notably because heatwaves made me less inclined to do anything much. I very much like to be knocked off my feet by art.
Gillian Ayres is an artist whose work explodes colour. Colour is absolutely my favourite thing about both art and life.
Due to a climbing frame injury, I had a three year old ,with a limp ,as my gallery escort. She loved the sensation of huge canvases of bright colours.
We paint the essence of something. I don’t know how to be very clear about it in words. I suppose that is why I paint. Gillian Ayres
Me too, my work is more representational but the essence is always important and I have to be very careful not to be too wordy or literal in my thinking and vision for an image.
Visiting an exhibition with a three year old is like doing so after a couple of glasses of Fizz or some other perception enhancer. There is both giddiness and instant joy. The colours and scale of the works we looked at were both monumental and vivid.
Wise nana-ing limits actual art appreciation to about an hour. Another hour is spent creating our own mistress pieces in the hands-on gallery.
Then lunch in a nearby student cafe with more colour and texture than the ubercool sophisticated gallery cafe.
The gallery gift shop allowed a small person to see herself reflected in colour.
Drenched and submerged in all things colour my delightful guest asked to go back to the gallery. Music to an arty Nana’s ears.
This time she chose which exhibition to visit. She couldn’t have chosen better. I met an old favourite painting by George Shaw.
Meanwhile she studiously listened to the artist describing his work.
And together we chose the work we would most like to steal from the gallery.
I find the idea of theft from an art gallery is the most wonderful creative thought process. When I used to work in an art gallery I used it as a conversation starter not only with children but also with grumpy old curmudgeons , who were being mean spirited about the art they were viewing. To be honest I use it on myself when art or anything visual is not to my taste. A little crime fantasy focuses the mind on positivity I find.
What did we do after all this colour drenching?
We pottered off to an allotment and found yet more colour. Just enough to fill a small hand.
