They dry like poppadoms in the sun

One thing is for sure, and that is that I'm still obsessed with the Catalpa bignonioides tree growing in our back garden. Everything about it is fantastic. Its leaves, its long spooky pods and its entire form. I have always loved these Cigar Trees. There used to be a large specimen growing at the end of my road on Brick Lane. I loved that one too, but there is just something extra special about this one. 

Spooky beans of Catalpa bignonioides at night

Like the 'Whomping Willow' in Harry Potter, or a wet dog on the beach, it is now shedding its massive leaves in one big shake. Scattered across the sunlit lawn they dry like poppadoms. A fan of the Indian snack, I later come along and gather them all up, study them, select the best leaves and paint those. Here's the latest:

Inky Leaves studio

 Close up on another one of my Catalpa bignonioides poppadom leaves

Apparently, the name Catalpa derives from the Muscogee name for the tree, "kutuhlpa" meaning "winged head". Later on, between 1729 and 1732, the spellings "Catalpa" and "Catalpah" were used by Mark Catesby and then Carl Linnaeus published the tree's name as Bignonia catalpa in 1753. Giovanni Antonio Scopoli then later established the genus Catalpa in 1777. I wonder what represented the winged head on the tree?

Observations #151115

One man in a cut field with a gun

One lady thrashing plants on the side of the road with a stick

Two men with radios

One man sitting on a wall looking pensive

Two dogs fighting

Two runners

One man throwing corn seed into a ditch

Two cyclists, both stationary. One at the start, one at the end

Observations,  11am on 15/11/15, Belicena, Granada, Spain

Hiroshima: after the explosion, shadows "fixed" in the walls and pavements 

It's been preposterously light here over the last seven days. A continuum of blue still dons every crown and seeps through the gaps until it’s halted by something opaque. Such is the nature of light, and I am once again rudely reminded that every light casts a shadow. What that shadow is, I am not entirely sure. I suppose it is just a different state of being. A wall can be in the sun in the morning and by afternoon not, but it is still a wall. Like a chameleon, it has just temporarily changed its skin. If there is light, then there are definitely shadows and so where there is light, there is darkness. On a metaphorical level, my greatest fear is that as I try to step closer into the light spiritually, someone or something else edges a little closer into the darkness.  Such is the impossible violence of light.

Still from the documentary film, The Effects of the Atomic Bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, produced by Akira Iwasaki and Kihon Eigasa, 1945. Photographed at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum's daily screening by slavick.

Studio updates

It's been quiet again. I think I am getting quieter and quieter, going deeper and deeper underground. I am bored by social media and more entranced by the things outside my door. I suppose this isn't a bad thing. 

Currently, what I find when I step outside of my door are platoons of corn stubs,
shimmering Poplar trees and long, long shadows.

So I have been getting on with a commission of a wreath made up of Salvia officinalis, Lavandula officinalis, Marjorana officinale, Veronica officinalis and Rosmarinus officinalis plants  for a new website.

Preparations are also underway for my upcoming show. I have worked out the time I need to build a collection of work together. I was aiming for February 2017, but with the RHS also in contention, I might have to wait until 2018. Lets see... So I have been very carefully selecting specimens for the job. I feel like one of those judges at a summer fete judging flowers, fruits and vegetables, except my criteria are slightly different in that I am looking for the perfection in imperfection. 

As for the RHS... well this has all gone awry in my heart. I still don't feel 100% happy doing what I wanted to do and all other ideas still aren't really fitting the bill. They are either too whacky, too difficult or not very me. I am finding it difficult trying to find something that I want to do that isn't going to be seen by the judges as madness. With this difficulty, I have decided to just step back from the whole thing and let the plant/theme/subject find me. 

After drawing after drawing, and fantasy session after fantasy session I have had a complete rethink on what I am doing. I often find that this is how I come to most of my pieces of work - there are those that come from dreams and fantasy and those that come from reality. Dreams come first and I tend to stick with them. Darth was a dream, as was the Coffee and Cos. They are usually softer paintings that come with an aura of uncontrollable darkness. Sometimes I dream so much I end up falling out on the other side and finding a simple solution in reality. I wonder how it will be with the RHS? So no blogging about this for a while now. Not sure what I will be writing about instead but I want to carrying on going deeper within in order to create something incredible and I feel I can't do that when I am spreading myself out on the web.

A spontaneous burst of pigeons - fabulous movement. 

Came across this the other day... a diary entry before I went to the UK in August... Made me laugh whilst also highlighting the importance of taking one's time in planning:

"Drawing it out and its the wrong size, only slightly wrong. Could go forward as is, but not happy with the size and that will ruin everything. I know it will. I got away with it on the pineapple, but not with this. I need Gertrude to be big. Bugger. Totally pissed off I have wasted 3 whole days  on this, sitting in a boiling hot room for nothing. Part of the process. The planning is so important and remember what Steven Moffat says - 'it is all the ideas that you didn't go ahead with that makes good writing'. It's all the silly doodles and ideas that lead to something ground breaking. I must remember this".

The fabulous work of Nancy Blum

Last night my mother and I discovered the work of Nancy Blum. It was a magical moment. So magical that I wanted to share it with you on here in case you hadn't heard of her. Based in New York, Nancy draws these spectacularly detailed botanical pieces full of vibrancy and colour. Each one of her carefully executed works is practically busting with life. She has a Facebook page which can be found here and a website in case you want to see more of these fabulously tantalising pieces. 

Nancy Blum ©

Nancy Blum ©

Nancy Blum ©

For me, I feel that there is something inherently 'William Morris' about them, but they also remind me of the stylised botanical paintings of the 19th century, such as the illustrations made for John hutton Balfour for his students in Edinburgh (below) or the bright intense paintings of Walter Hood Fitch (also below). Add a dash of Georg Dionysius Ehret's more brazen works, such as his Opuntia and the intensity of Maria Sibylla Merian's work, and I believe you get something a little like this. They almost look a bit 'Indian' with their rich colours and never ending embellishment. However, despite all of this, I still find Nancy's work to be completely unique. 

Working clockwise from top left: John Hutton Balfour drawing aid, 'Blandfordia grandiflora' by Walter Hood Fitch, 'Opuntia' by Georg Dionysius Ehret and  'Butterflies sun' by Maria Sibylla Merian. 

Artist unknown: "Stenocarpus sinuatus Endlicher (PROTEACEAE). Firewheel tree, tulip flower, Mr Cunningham's stenocarpus", c. 1846, botanical illustration, watercolour and ink on board, 95.2 x 60.3 cm. 

Botanical Art by Nancy Blum - I would love to have this on my wall.

Nancy Blum ©

"Of all known forms of life, only about ten percent are still living today. All other forms – fantastic plants, ordinary plants, living animals with unimaginably various wings, tails, teeth, brains – are utterly and forever gone. That is a great many forms that have been created. Multiplying ten times the number of living forms today yields a profusion that is quite beyond what I consider thinkable. Why so many forms? Why not just that one hydrogen atom? The creator goes off on one wild, specific tangent after another, or millions simultaneously, with an exuberance that would seem to be unwarranted, and with an abandoned energy sprung from an unfathomable font. What is going on here?"

. 
Annie Dillard
Pilgrim At Tinker Creek

Killer Blackberries

Blackberries (Rubus ulmifolius), 2015, Watercolour on Saunders Waterford Paper, J R Shepherd ©, Inky Leaves

I panicked then that I'd lost all my images, but I had filed them under 'Rubus' rather than 'blackberry'! I really do need to sort out my taxonomic system on my computer, it goes from Latin to English far too readily. So yes, here they are in all their glory. BEHOLD THE RACEME OF BLACKBERRIES!

I would certainly be lying if I said that they were easy to paint, but even though they were a challenge, they were really fun to do. I haven't painted shiny berries in ages and had forgotten how fabulous they can be. I did miss my leaves, but it was good to step back from them. So the good news is I managed to finish them on time. I dropped my brush which was on both occasions loaded with the blackest of paint twice and marked the white background, but managed to recover the damage with a magic eraser - phew! So now I only have three more pieces to do before Christmas and all will be merry! Easy-peasy.

Blackberries (Rubus ulmifolius), 2015, Watercolour on paper, J R Shepherd ©, Inky Leaves

So after some more days in London, which were an absolute riot, I now find myself back on terra España and I am left feeling a little disorientated. I unpacked as soon as I got in - I always do. Almost threw myself into the washing machine as I vigorously put my four outfits into the wash (goodness knows how I kept going on four outfits) and got to work on sorting out all of my images, my accounts and many other boring little tasks, which is most likely why I have been rampant on Facebook this week. Being sat at a desk with a desktop is dangerous and highly distracting. I had hoped to get into the studio on my birthday, but that failed and today was also a failure so I am lining myself up for Sunday. Can't wait.

So news... Well Lucy the Loosestrife is now with her new owner, the RHS is still brewing in my cerebellum and I have had the misfortune to discover that Walnut trees are deceptive creatures that should never be depended upon, as are squirrels and Spanish foragers.  I have worked out that what has been making me so poorly these past 24 months (yes it is really that long) were the hormone pills I was taking, so I am coming off of those and now drinking a lot of eco-responsible soya milk (I love the idea of responsible soya beans - would make a good cartoon). I fell in love, yes, I unfortunately did that and no, it wasn't with a walnut tree (luckily) or a plant but with an actual human being, but they don't know, so alas we shall leave it there on that note. I had two very happy unbirthdays, and one real birthday yesterday, which was super nice and basically did a bit of growing up.

Oh, and I got myself a gallery... In London. 

Blackberries Take II

So yes, I ended up starting again with this one. Unhappy with the composition and the general direction of the first blackberry painting I decided to put it to one side and I make head way with another. I am happy to say that within minutes of me doing this I was pleased I made this move and remain to be. I had been umming and errring about it, but after the eclipse something shifted in me and I went straight ahead in making a new painting. I didn't feel angry or sad about this, only positive.

Blackberry branch (Rubus ulmifolius), a work in progress

So it's been two weeks and this is where I find myself. I hope to finish it in the next few days... the speed is ramping up as I get into the groove and memorise the new tricks I have learnt with this one, for I have learnt many! This is the first time I have tackled a berry like this since I painted that bunch of grapes back in 2011. I find myself re-deploying many of these skills I learnt back then for this piece, but also a few newbies. My hard mini brush has been an absolute God-send. I use this for the highlights and to merge colours together. It comes out on every painting, but with this one it is pretty much in permanent use. I have learnt that transparent yellow is very, very useful at making the berries look three dimensional when placed in the right area (green on the black berries) and that the colour is never what you think it is. I wish I had done this on vellum in a way too. There is something about the rough finish of the Saunders Waterford that doesn't lend itself very well to shiny berries. The burnisher has been very much used on this one.

On the easel.... 

So there is my update. Not much going on in the world of Inky. All very quiet really. I have been thinking about the RHS again and trying to work out what I might do for my Christmas cards, but that's all as I eagerly wait for my next subject of the commissioned triptych to do its thing and open up... Hint - it is a nut.

Had my eyes tested - they've got worse, which is hardly surprising. Even more short sighted now, but that's ok, as long as I can still see up close. We can't have it all and I'd rather go this way if I had to choose. The great news is I have a beautiful optic nerve - he was an Italian optician whose use of words was rather wonderful.

Gooseberries scanned in

Gooseberries (Ribes uva-crispa),  J R Shepherd © 2015

Battersea to Bognor

Sounds like a scene from 'Monte Carlo or Bust' and it felt bit like that last week. I broke down a few times as I struggled onward and needed to top up on fuel at my friends houses in order to keep going. Last week was difficult, non-flowing and complex and took the wind right out of my sails. It just goes to show you - you never know what is around the corner. Cut a long story short I almost gave up this botanical pursuit. Most unlike me - I never give up, but several times over the past several days I have found myself close to complete breakdown. I am tired and that doesn't help, both physically after marching across London, and mentally. Emotionally I am pretty stretched and all of these are dampening my spirit. But I mean to go on - not because of how much we have all invested or through personal pride, but because I know no other way. It has always been my belief that I was born to paint plants. To me, painting is like breathing fresh air. It's an innate need. It would be easy for me to blame my reason for giving up on the many pressures coming in from all directions, but I know the real reason is that all these pressures had no outlet at the time. I hadn't painted properly for ten days whilst being on the move and I felt it. Thankfully my brushes are now touching paper and I feel more grounded as a result. So my advice is when you are this close to giving up painting - paint.

Blackberries (Rubus ulmifolius) ripening - a work in progress

With this in mind I have started a new piece - a raceme of ripening blackberries (very disappointed that every time I type 'blackberry' auto spell changes it to 'BlackBerry' - see here as to why I am sad about this). These are definitely now in my top five of all time horrendous subjects to paint. I was so entranced when my friend Tom and I spotted some ripening blackberries in Chelsea Physic Garden that I didn't even think about the technical expertise required to paint such a thing. Nope - it did not enter my mind even briefly. Wish it had, as I then would have saved this piece for another time as it is super hard. I wouldn't mind so much if it wasn't a commission, but it is, so I have to do this well. I'm just thanking my lucky stars that there aren't any yellow or white flowers involved as that would top it off. So my other piece of advice is if you are thinking of giving up painting - do not pick a subject that is difficult if it is for a client. It's a lot of pressure to put on oneself. I am just ploughing on and trying not to think about it's destination too much - it is the only way.

Rubus ulmifolius fruit ripening - close up

What makes this piece tricky is the spectrum of colour (yellow, peach, grays, blues, reds, magenta's, blacks, pinks, greens and white tints) and the two textures - shiny berries with many tints to the velvety stem. The leaves are not a problem - haha - I am lucky in that they rarely are. I am starting to wish that I had mastered the medium of masking fluid, but out of stubbornness I have not, so I am having to dance around every speck of white. Fun.

Rubus ulmifolius fruit ripening - a work in progress

My palette is: W&N Transparent Yellow, Permanent Magenta, Permanent Rose, Hooker's Green and Daler & Rowney Cobalt Blue,  Phthalo Blue, Rose Madder. The usual. Not much changes there. Teeny brushes. A painting like this, where the colours change a lot and bleed into each other doesn't half make it tempting to use lots of brushes all at once, but I am being a good girl and sticking to just three brushes and not putting them in my mouth. This is good news - I think I have re-trained myself.

Close up of the bottom of the raceme of Rubus ulmifolius - work in progress

So a little update from the Inky Leaf studio in Bognor Regis. I apologise that my posts are thinner on the ground these days, but there isn't much to report on and I am really trying to focus.  

Close up on the ripe blackberry.

Close up on a ripening blackberry - work in progress

I hope that you all had an enjoyable Autumn equinox. Time to get the daylight bulbs out and bake blackberry crumbles!

Full painting view - a work in progress

Gooseberries and Greens

So another piece complete in the space of a month. Can't quite believe it myself, but there you go. It appears that practice makes you faster as well as better. I am currently sat in my old bedroom surrounded by my old books and toys, perched on a stool next to a print of Brenda the Broadbean. She's upside down and wedged in with all the RHS prints and Gary the Gooseberry. He's at the back, I am hiding him from view and have stuffed him in a plastic wallet for protection in this very dusty room. I am hiding him as I need a visual break. I can't see the wood for the trees and need to take a couple of days out away from him in order to see all the obvious mistakes. I have covered my palette up and am now on 'pause'. Making it a good time for an online virtual update.

Gooseberry (Ribes uva-crispa)  J R Shepherd ©

Here he is... he is a proud chappy. To begin with he was painted to the Irrepressibles 'The Opening' on loop - such a beautiful song which just flows and is therefore very good for primary washes. Then his tastes moved onto The Hurts 'Wonderful Life' on loop... and for the finale, he decided he rather liked VNV Nation (especially the Eurythmics mash-up). I often finish a painting to heavy electronica as I need to enter a space that is beyond me and things start to go dark.

Gooseberry (Ribes uva-crispa)  J R Shepherd ©

Whilst loosing myself to VNV I got a little Facebook message from fellow illustrator, and very good friend, Shevaun. It was about greens... She had been in conversation with Sue Wickison about Maimeri Blu Viridian... Long story, but it moved onto the world of Inky Leaf green and the desire to know how it is made.

Haha! *Introducing smug smile* This is a tricky one to answer as I don't do swatches, so I can't show you any. I personally don't like them because:

A) I cannot make them look nice and organised and this infuriates me

B) Colour mixing can become too analytical and for me painting is always intuitive

C) The colours I get are from layering. For me to make the swatches I'd get from my painting technique would take a very long time indeed. Time I don't have, or wish to use, on such a venture.

Gooseberry (Ribes uva-crispa)  J R Shepherd ©

So, this is tricky as I cant post anything on here to show you. There is my palette... I often post pictures of my palettes, and then there is the process which you see regularly. I am very honoured that some of you feel that my greens are good. To receive such praise is really lovely and very encouraging. I suppose my greens are intense, in that they are 'rich' and 'deep'. This is because a painting, such as my Gooseberries, has about 10-30 layers of watercolour on it depending on the zone you're looking at. I start to regularly burnish the paint towards the end - when I get to about 10 layers - to try and prevent them from coming off of the paper as I add more layers. This often makes the paint 'glow' and makes the specimen 'come to life'. Arthur Harry Church burnished his works - check it out. I also do it because my Saunders Waterford paper is slightly textured despite being hot press. 

So for me, greens are achieved by not just by careful mixing but through time and layering whilst also understanding the nature of the plant, its physiology and structure. I always think about the chromatic strips when I start a plant. When I have a proper studio I'd like to get a chromatograph done of every plant before I start because I feel that if I were to analyse anything, that would be the thing to look at.

A chromatograph of a red maple - these are the things I think about when mixing green.

Green Mixes...

Blues

I always have a very limited palette for every painting. I recently indulged myself and bought a load of blues as the Daler Rowney cobalt blue I have been using since dot ran out. I blame Darth Vader for that. I did start to use a bit of French Ultramarine (both DR and W&N) in 2013, but I found myself darting back to cobalt blue as French ultra marine lacks a shade of warmth that I like in my greens. It's too harsh for my liking in a green mix, but then it depends on the leaf... If it is a kale or something lurid, or a reflection, I will go for a dash of Phatalo or Cerulean. As part of my 'blue purchase order' I have just started trying out DR Manganese Blue and I prefer this shade thus far.

Yellows

It was always DR Gambodge... but then I invested in some tubes and got W&N Green Gold and Transparent Yellow after someone said it was nice to add on as a last layer to make the leaves 'glow'. Convinced, I tried it. I haven't used my tube of Green Gold since that day in 2013 as didn't like it... Trans Yellow on the other hand - nice, but I tend not to use it as a top layer but in the mix. I also use W&N Aureolin but have noticed you have to be careful with this one as it can precipitate when combined with other pigments, such as Phatalo Blue, which is a right pain. I use Aureolin with Hookers Green/Sap Green/Cobalt Blue.

Reds

Just like Marianne North - Rose Madder everytime. I sometimes stray and use Permanent Rose. All leaf greens need red. This is where I think everyone goes wrong. I also use a lot of purple. It used to be DR Mauve but it is very, very opaque and can precipitate, so now I use W&N permanent magenta. These pinks/reds/mauves change in quantitiy depending on the green. Gooseberries have a lot of purple in and not as much blue as a result. Also - shading is mostly done in the opposite colour. I used a lot of Permanent Rose in the Coffee Plant as a result of shading (but also in the leaf). I like the Rose Madder though, as it is much warmer and gives the piece an 'old' quality about it. Permanent Rose has a icy cold nature to it which I don't really like.

Greens

I also use a dash of the ready made greens... This started in later 2013 when I started Cos, I always mixed my own before then. What happened is I got lazy and couldn't be bothered mixing all these greens up when I have so much to put on the paper. It's a lot of paint when you are using half pans. It wouldn't be so bad if I were a tube girl, as it comes out wet. So yes, I also use W&N Hookers Green and W&N Sap Green. I used to have some lovely DR Hookers Green. It ran out two years ago and I have only just got to ordering some more in. They have changed it for sure - it isn't right for leaves. It has that lurid nature to it that Viridian can have.

Palette... Gooseberry Green was made using Transparent Yellow, Madder and Hookers and Sap Green. Then I added a wash of both Cobalt and Manganese Blue in places, and then Purple and then back to the Madder. Then Aureolin... etc to and fro, repeated washes. 

I personally really struggle when I am painting light leaves of a sappy colour, or when the light passes through a leaf giving that intense bright glow that looks slightly un-natural. A bit like the new leaves of a beach tree. I find those greens so very tricky because they really are just a shade of yellow in my eyes and my eyes refuse to deal with yellow. However, when I do have to paint them, these days I use W&N Hooker's Green and Transparent Yellow mixed together. I used to use DR Sap Green, but it is very opaque, and while I don't mind opquae colours, when one is painting something that is translucent (ie - light is shining through said item to produce said effect) then you need a transparent colour.

Highlights

I don't use body colour and I don't use masking fluid, I use use the paper.

Dragon Arum (Dracunculus vulgaris) 2005

N.b.

Here is a piece I painted for my dad ten years ago. In my mind now I feel that it is not a very good piece of work, but at the time I remember being chuffed to bits with it. Check out those greens! My goodness... no depth, nothing and of course it is all wrong. The leaves are nothing like that of a Dragon Arum, and rather typically, I am too busy focusing on the inflorescence, and ignoring the importance of leaves, but then we all have to start from somewhere. It takes time, I still can't a lot of things right and my greens are not perfect. I am very honoured that some of my readers feel that I am good at green - it's a comforting thought. I can't for the life of me get yellows right, or pinks or whites... But then I haven't practiced these as much and I am not drawn to these shades so that is my problem and it is up to me to sort that out. Anyway - hope this helps a few of you. Please feel free to comment or email if you have any questions...

Gooseberry Fool

I could just tuck into one of those right now... Instead I am making do with a sausage roll from a petrol station. It's not quite 'albondigas', but it's giving me the 'carne' fix I need after a couple of weeks staying with my pescetarian dad. So what on earth have I been up to for the past fortnight (certainly feels like more than that to me...)? Well I got on a plane and arrived in the UK and it was cold. I went to the Chelsea Physic Garden, and decided that I want my ashes spread over the garden after I spent most of two days there, collecting as much information from their live collections as possible. Since then I really have come to realise that it is the place to be and renewed my membership.

After a couple of days of 'field work', I caught the train down from Victoria station to my hometown, Bognor Regis, and started my next commission - a gooseberry. I missed the season, so this piece is being painted from photographs - seven different ones to be precise  -from gooseberries all over the country. So far I have spent roughly 70 hours on it and am about half way. I hope to have it complete before the 10th when I pop up to London again to show it to the client. 

Gooseberry (Ribes uva-crispa) - a work in progress. J R Shepherd ©

I bought some new blue pigments which were waiting for me when I arrived. I am using one of them in this piece - Manganese Blue (121) Daler Rowney. Other colours are from the Daley and Rowney range: Rose Madder and Cobalt Blue and from W&N: Transparent Yellow, Hooker Green, Aureolin Yellow, Permanent Magenta and Olive Green. The fruits have every single one of these colours in them, and the leaves have less Aureolin and Olive Green.

After the 10th I am off to Norfolk for a weekend off. I am hoping to dash to Suffolk to see some hops farms, but it is all weather dependent and so far I don't really rate the weather. Can you blame me?! I have a robin outside my window in Bognor singing it's winter tune and, while I liked it at first, it is now starting to make me feel rather confused. Is it really that time of the year already?