'Aller au fil de l'eau' means to go with the flow. It is also, appropriately, the name of the café in the small French village where I live. On the terrace, the atmosphere is relaxed, life seems to mosey along no faster than the river that slips lazily by. In spring and early summer, conversations are often accompanied by a chorus of croaking frogs. Creating this blog is some kind of commitment to take brush or pen or pencil in hand every day and make art. As Julia Cameron says: "...creativity is not a marathon event that we must gird ourselves for, whacking off great swaths of life as we know it to make room for it. Creativity is not aberrant, not dramatic, not dangerous. If anything, it is the pent-up energy of not using our creativity that feels that way". Not making art is like trying to stop the flow of the river. I surrender to the flow and watch where it takes me.
Sunday, 4 December 2011
Sitting on the terrace the other day, enjoying my coffee in the late November sun, my eyes fell on this random collection of objects clustered near the outside tap. We'd been decorating and there was a paintbrush soaking in a pot, a container of white spirit, a jug I use for watering, our wood-chopping block and some pebbles and shells in front of the plant pots. A few months ago you'd have heard me frequently muttering that I never know what to paint but now anything and everything is fodder for my sketchbook.