There are two common questions I am asked by viewers of my work. One is what technique I use in my artwork, and I will reply by explaining how I sketch the outlines first and then, depending on my material, will apply paint or pencil in layers, gradually adding detail as I go along. But each time, I am left feeling as if I haven’t answered correctly as if there is some unspoken protocol about how an artist should work. On one occasion, my husband (he was serving at our stall at the time) was practically interrogated about a watercolour landscape I had painted. The enquirer gave the impression of being knowledgeable about art, and their questions were focused on the fact that there were marks of paint splatter that could be seen in my depiction of the sky. My husband truthfully replied that the paint splatters were unintentional, where I had flicked paint with a brush to depict trees in the background; some paint had flicked beyond the area I had intended. It was no more than a mistake. However, the enquirer was adamant that the flicks had been included intentionally to create the impression of being an old painting. They demanded that I, as the artist, contact them with an explanation which I duly did so by writing an email explaining my naivety as an artist and explained my process. Not surprisingly I did not receive a reply but we were left with the feeling that we had done wrong somehow by offending the artistic elite.

The other question I have been asked is how long I spend on a painting or a drawing and again I cannot give a straight answer. Some paintings have taken a day, a few hours; others have taken about two weeks or longer. But, being a mother who is distracted by the hubbub of a domestic life happening around me, I can’t focus on a piece of work completely and it is inevitable that sometime during the day, the dog will need to be walked or dinner to be prepared. I do not set a timer at the beginning of each piece and time myself so my answers may appear vague but they are honest.  

For each question, I wonder why my answer is relevant. It is as if the value of the work depends on the effort or the time put into it rather than seeing the artwork for its value as an image suiting to individual preferences. But, I presume this is all part of the art world to which I, unintentionally have entered into. I am not an artist in the sense that I will be officially recognised as such but I do not aspire to be. My paintings or drawings may look different to masterpieces hanging in the Royal Academy; they may lack official recognition but are they any different as far as technique or time that has been spent on them? I think not.

I lack training, I am entirely self-taught but I do not think that devalues a piece of work. I learn by observing detail. I paint form by imagining I am stroking the subject, feeling my way over anatomy by using the brush. I am aware that I try to share a feeling or an interpretation of a subject. For example, my depictions of animals tend to have a humanistic character about them but that comes from my belief that all life is equal. It comes from within and therefore it is not always something that can be explained or shared. I guess that is what makes art so unique, it is individual for every artist, you can be taught techniques such as tone or perspective but you cannot teach self-expression. The monetary value of artwork may increase where there is a few letters attached to the artist’s name but surely the notional value of the artist’s communication to the viewer is regardless of technique or time spent on the work? Art is a dialogue, just like this blog; for all I know I could be simply talking to my laptop but it is nonetheless it is quite therapeutic to release thoughts once in a while.

As Picasso once stated, “ Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.” I consider myself somewhat cleansed after having expressed myself, regardless if there is anyone interested!