Tag Archives: art

Alexa Meade

Trompe l’oeil, or trick the eye in English, has always fascinated me, and I’m struck each time I see an example that we cannot depend for truth on the evidence of our senses. Witnesses of the same event will give differing accounts of what they have seen, not merely because each has a differing visual viewpoint, but because each has his own way of evaluating what he has witnessed depending on his own particular worldview and frames of reference, according to his background, his life experiences, and his adopted, inculcated, or self reasoned attitudes.

I happened upon the work of Alexa Meade on facebook, and in looking for images was astonished to find the artist, whose painting seems to me to have the quality of maturity seldom found in young artists since the days of the Renaissance masters, a very young woman of twenty five.

Testing the bounds of credulity she forces the eye of the beholder of her installations to question the reliability of his perceptions as the real and artifice are interexchanged, spatial dimensions misappearing to confound the intellect of the observer.

As we stand before the great paintings of the expressionists and the impressionists we marvel that though close up we see loose and bold strokes of coloured paint, as we retreat from the painted surface the image seems to conform itself to a true reflection of reality. In accustoming our perceptions to receiving a painted image on a flat surface as essentially a representation of the real, confusion occurs when we confront the real painted as though a representation of coloured paint on a flat surface.

Visit this Wikipedia page to read about the artist.

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Loving Hilda

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I just discovered these wonderful watercolour paintings by Duane Bryers from his Hourglass Country Girl Pinups and had to share them (only a few) with you. I’m in love with Hilda….

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The thing about drawing…

Most people can’t draw, or at least that’s what they believe. I think the issue comes down to one simple factor: people can’t see. This may sound like a radical thing to say, but bear with me.

As Betty Edwards points out in her book Drawing On The Right Side Of The Brain, our drawings as children, though quite unlike their subject matter, were perceived by us at the time as being truly representative. As children our imaginations filled in the gaps and gave our drawings a realism which seemed just fine to us. Then as we grew older we realised their absurd simplicity and strove to make them more representative, mostly with frustration and a growing conviction that we simply couldn’t draw.

What she does, by simple exercises, is to force the hand to draw what the eye sees. The exercises are designed to engage the right side of the brain, the intuitive dreamer as I call it, and to disengage the left side of the brain, the dictator as I like to think of it, which has a huge catalogue of icons and symbols which it likes to impose on the drawing. The exercises frustrate the dictator so that it gives up, leaving the intuitive dreamer to feel its way around the subject.

I find the exercise of drawing both a means to access the waking dream state, wherein time is irrelevant and the world outside of the subject and one’s response to it disappears, and a discipline requiring concentration and power of perception.

I like to draw anything; the subject is irrelevant, being merely a pattern of light and shade and relative shapes, but I confess to relishing the challenge to render a likeness of people which might also convey their essence, for want of a better word. And I prefer to draw with a fine tipped black pen; there being no possibility of erasure I find produces a more honest response to the subject. Here is a drawing (or perhaps I should say cartoon, since all of my drawings have that quality) of a visiting friend which I drew while he was talking…

Here is another friend…

And here is my husband, agog at some horrendous news bulletin…

And here is a chair, once a high chair, modified, which I like to sit in when having to speak on the landline…

And finally, here is a cartoon for a little book by an old couple who traveled around Australia. It depicts the famous fishing competition on the Barcoo River, an area almost deserted except for the enormous influx of contestants at the time of the competition. I mused what it must be like to stand shoulder to shoulder leaning on the dried bank for a chance to take out the first prize…

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Gwen Murphy’s wonderful art

I love Gwen Murphy’s nifty shoe faces and simply had to have a few pictures of them here. Here’s a link to her blog.

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at the cafe

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