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Tag Archives: colour

‘Pink isn’t just a color, it’s an attitude!’ Miley Cyrus.

Stories from my Sketchbook  . . .

When I pulled into my driveway a couple of days ago I was greeted by a largeand extremely rowdyflock of pink and gray galahs foraging for their supper on my front lawn.  I am not sure whether they had been rowdy for as long as they had been there, or whether they just became so when I drove in, but they certainly weren’t backwards in coming forwards in venting their feelings about my untimely intrusion  . . .

I think that is one of reasons I like them so much.  I love critters with ‘attitude’ (as if you hadn’t guessed) and galahs really have that.  In spades.

Being mostly pink just kicks things up another notch . . .

 
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Posted by on September 21, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

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‘No colour will ever be brighter for me than black and white.’ Allessandro Del Piero.

Stories from my Sketchbook . . . 

The Oxford English Dictionary defines colour as ‘the property possessed by an object of producing different sensations on the eye as a result of the way it reflects or emits light’.

The human eye can only see light within specific wavelengths so, by this definition, colour is the range of visible light that humans can actually see.  For us, the visible spectrum begins with the wavelengths we call violet.  This then moves on to blue, green, yellow, orange, and ends with what we call red.  The trouble with this approach is that there are some very noticeable exceptionslike black and white. In science black and white are not considered colours because they do not have specific wavelengths. White light contains all wavelengths of visible light while black is the absence of visible light.

But you know what?  That doesn’t really work for me.  I need to see black and white as colours because, in spite of my love of all the other colours of the rainbow, my day-to-day life is a vision in monochrome.

My home decor is mostly black and white.  I admit  there are a few (quite a few actually) vibrant pops of colour here and there, but the fact remainsI have white walls, white cupboards, black lounge, black chairs, black and white rugs, black and white prints and black and white quilts and pillows.  (All serving to beautifully accentuate all those other lovely colours I might add).

I also have three little dogs, two black-and-white, and one all black.  Now, I hasten to add that I absolutely did not choose these little dogs so they would match my furniture.  That was more of a happy accident . . .

Many of my clothes are black and whitejust because I really like wearing black and white It works in any season, it’s easy to mix and match (and add to—no more vacillating about whether it is quite the right shade when buying something new for my already far too substantial wardrobe) and I can also easily pep it up with any other colour on a whim (fuschia pink shoes!!) while still looking tidy and presentable when out and about in the world.

(Wearing mostly black and white is also exceedingly helpful when you are the owner of aforesaid three hairy (and prone to frequent shedding) little dogs.  The ever-constant dog-hairs on my clothes are at least evenly distributed . . . )

So, scientific or not, I think I need to continue to see black and white as colours—otherwise I might be forced to rethink my whole take on my world and everything in it.

I’m not sure I’m entirely ready for that . . .

Just as well Mabel had her red collar on or she might have gone completely unnoticed on the black and white quilt.

 
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Posted by on March 9, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

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‘Time flies like an arrow—but fruit flies like a banana.’ Terry Wogan.

Stories from my Sketchbook . . . 

I’ve never really been that much of a fan of eating fresh fruit (except maybe berries—I do love berries) but I have always eaten it, even when I didn’t particularly want to, because I was told it was good for me.  It seemed entirely the wrong thing to say that I always preferred a good slice of apple pie (or apple crumble) to just eating a plain old apple  . . . and I would have much preferred a great big fat slice of banana bread to just any old banana . . .

Since last October I have been following a low-carb-high-fat (LCHF) lifestyle and that has also meant eating little to no fruit (and especially not in pies or crumbles) although I have still managed to sneak in a few strawberries underneath my dollop cream!   But you know what?  I haven’t missed it.  At all.  (I have probably just alienated every fruit-growing person on the planet, but there you go.  I am sure there are still enough people out there devouring the world’s fruits in such quantities that my no longer partaking will hardly be missed.)

Having said all that, no longer eating fruit does not make me totally immune to its charms.  The myriad colours, textures and shapes are all pretty fabulous . . . and a lot of fun to sketch . . .

 
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Posted by on February 2, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

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‘Colour is like food for the spirit—plus it’s not addictive or fattening.’ Isaac Mizrahi.

Stories from my Sketchbook . . . 

I think I fed my spirit pretty well with this sketchand not a calorie ingested . . .

 
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Posted by on November 28, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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‘Colours are the smiles of nature.’ Leigh Hunt.

Stories from my Sketchbook . . . 

If that statement is true this tree is as happy as they come . . .

The rainbow eucalyptus or Mindanao gum is one of those trees that you don’t really believe exists until you see it for yourself.  The  bark is the tree’s most distinctive feature. Patches of bark are shed annually showing a bright green inner bark. This then darkens and matures to give blue, purple, orange and then maroon tones. The previous season’s bark peels off in strips to reveal a brightly colored new bark below. The peeling process results in vertical streaks of red, orange, green, blue, and gray.

A very smiley tree . . .

 
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Posted by on October 10, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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‘Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree …’ Emily Bronte.

Stories from my Sketchbook . . .

Before I moved back to the coast about 13 years ago I lived for many years in Armidale, up high on the Northern Tablelands.  Armidale is a beautiful place, and unlike much of the rest of Australia, it also has four distinct seasons.  My favourite season has always been the autumn and I especially loved those Armidale autumns.  The nights would be getting cooler and the early mornings would often be foggy, but when the fog burnt off the days were bright and sunny and still quite warm . . .

. . . and the city itself was gorgeous—everywhere you looked there were corridors of trees all dressed in the most magnificent autumn colours . . .

(I realise I might sound a little nostalgic here but I would like to point out that I am very happy living here in the Camden Haven and I am not remembering Armidale entirely through ‘autumn-coloured’ glasses.  Armidale autumns were gorgeous, that’s true—but the winters were downright vicious.  It was those long . . . long . . .  long . . . icy winters that eventually drove me away and back to more temperate climes . . . )

 
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Posted by on March 21, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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‘Colour is like food for the spirit—plus it’s not addictive or fattening.’ Isaac Mizrahi.

Stories from my Sketchbook . . . 

colourpotsI admire people who use colour well in their artwork.  Some people really seem to have the knack for it.  I love colour (especially as it is so non-fattening) but I always seem to use too little—or go to the other extreme and never know when to stop.

Last week, in an effort to force myself out of my comfortable little box (which was hard, because I actually like my comfortable little box) I decided to go back to an exercise I had in one of my Sketchbook Skool classes (also I was desperately trying to think of a way to cover a completely failed sketch, but that’s a whole other story).  So I splashed a couple of coloured washes onto the page (only two colours though—I wasn’t ready to launch myself too far out of my box . . . ) to see what would happen.

frustratedAnd then I sat and looked at it . . . and looked at it. . . and looked at it . . .

Okay.  What the hell am I supposed to do with it now?  Sigh.  Honestly I have so little imagination at times it scares me . . .

So I closed the book and walked away.

After a couple of days of  (unsuccessfully) trying to ignore this page in my sketchbook I decided to crawl back into my box, retreat to what I know best and do a biro sketch over the top of it.  Et voila!

So, trying to look objectively at it, I don’t entirely hate it—but I am not sure I like it very much either.

But that’s okay.  I’m glad I persevered. There was a time (not all that long ago) when I would have just ripped the page out of my sketchbook in disgust at my ineptitude.

Perhaps that means that I am actually a little bit further outside my box that I thought I was?  I’ll take that.

Now I can turn over the page and try something else. Baby steps . . .

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Posted by on November 8, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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