The 'Green Jack' is available as a print!

In case you'd like your very own Green Man, they are now available as A4 and A5 prints in my Etsy shop.  They will look like this (really just an excuse for another pic of him!), with a white border to allow for framing.  Printed on heavy quality (251gsm) semi-gloss Epson paper.

The original has been packaged up and sent off for an exhibition/competition, so we shall see if he catches someone's eye.  I've gotten rather attached to him now though, and almost hope he doesn't!

The 'Green Jack'...or maybe Nigel...or Barry........

So here he is now, with the left side darkened and text added, and some face paint/tattoo/tribal marking type stuff happening, just giving the vague hint of antlers...because for me the Green Man is also Herne the Hunter.  I THINK he's finished, but am just wondering now whether it could do with another line of text to balance better?  But no, I think that's just me never being satisfied.  Beloved Other Half says this is a little different for me, a looser style, and he likes it.  On the whole, I think the experiment went very well, and I'm looking forward to trying more of these pencil/acrylic on canvas combos...maybe something a little bigger next time (this one is only 20cm x 20cms) so that I can give that 'looser style' free reign.

And something to listen to while you're looking at the pic!
Just had a quick surf to find the lyrics, and here they are, along with a nice explanation of how the song came about and guitar tabs too (for when I've had a LOT more lessons!)

The Green Jack...

Other-Half asked this morning, "So why 'Jack'?  Why not...'Graham'?"

But I'm having a hard time imagining him with the same devilish magic if he was called the 'Green Graham'!

The 'Green Jack'...is green!

Just a quick post, as it's Sunday and I'm doing half a dozen things at once (washing to put out and more to do as it's sunny, dyeing a skirt in onion skins, and cleaning the bath...not to mention finishing this painting!)

Here's the Green Jack as he was last night after the acrylic colour was applied.

And here he is this morning after some refining around the eyes and extra shading, and details added to the oak leaves.

The initial idea was to add some text, but I've got to one of those annoying WIIFIUSs (the 'what if I **** it up stage') which makes me scared to take the next step in case I ruin it.  I was intending to make it darker down the left side and add some fine white handwriting in pen and ink, but I'm not sure.  I was also wondering about adding some tattoo like markings on his face.  Hmmm, decisions, decisions!

Thank you too for your comments about the poem, it's very encouraging.  And if anyone doesn't like it, or doesn't think it works, please remember I'm just as happy to have those comments as well, it's all about learning to be better, so constructive criticism is always appreciated as well...though it IS lovely to have lots of nice comments!  Must go...washing to be done!

A poem for Beauty and her beast...and the 'Green Jack"

The "Green Jack" so far.  Pencil straight onto canvas.  Acrylic washes to go over, more pics soon.

I wrote this poem about Beauty and the Beast for this competition at Enchanted Conversation.  Please read it first, and then the info, because I want to know if it makes any sense without a lengthy explanation (which kind of defeats the purpose a bit).

BEAUTY REMEMBERS   

It is our season, Wolfskin

of frost and snow.

They would leave us alone.

Remember?

The children snow-tumbled in their winter coats and

       did not yet know the word ‘accursed’.

My children.

My heart’s blood.

These long years without you my one respite from pain is this.

You did not live to see our sons

forsake their honest pelts

       for the bloodied skins of slaughtered kin.

The wild in their eyes has dulled and only watchful fear remains.

Wolfheart.

I dream I run beside you barefoot.

You taught me to run

       to laugh

       to howl the moon down.

To Live.

You taught me how to snarl and fight.

I have needed that these past years.

And to think they pitied me once.

Outside is the smell of snow falling

       your den brothers calling in the low hills.

I ache to fill my lungs

with bright cold air.

But the priests have barred the window,

filled the room with choking incense,

and I am too weak to fight them now.

Our whispering sons grey shadows in the cloying heat

       and I hear the word “repent”.

Repent?

As if I would one day regret.

You gave me back my voice, my body, my rage, my self.

These things no woman owned.

Asked nothing but compassion in return.

But love is a wild thing

       it grows where it pleases

       not in neatly ploughed rows.

I loved a wild thing and found my own wild soul.

Let them mutter their prayers, Wildheart

I will not repent.

This charade of bell, book and candle will

be done soon enough.

The curtains drawn around my bed

       the candles snuffed.

As my sons stand, relief belies their down-bowed heads.

And the priests cross themselves at the smile on my mouth.

I will not be here.

I will be running

       barefoot in the low hills.

Your soft soundless feet padding beside me

       in the frozen dawn.

If you checked out the link, you'll know the theme was 'Beauty and the Beast, the 50th Wedding Anniversary:  How did the marriage turn out?"  My poem is a little melancholy, imagining Beauty lying on her deathbed surrounded not by friends, but people trying to get her to repent her years spent with the Beast.  I can imagine that her marriage to the Beast was not the unforgivable sin, but rather her love for him.  If she had remained the 'poor woman married to a monster', stayed the compliant wife, and martyr to 'good womanhood' who could be held up as a convenient example of how a woman should behave (ie. obedient to her husband no matter how awful he is), she would have been declared a saint.  But she fell in love with the Beast and learnt to be wild and willful.  Unacceptable to her society.  True to form, I had the idea floating around in my head for several days, but didn't get around to actually trying to write it until the last minute, and send it off rather rough and unpolished.  It didn't make the grade, but I still like the idea and think it's worth tinkering with a bit more.  What do you think?  Does it make sense without all the explanation?  Does it convey her love for the wild man she's lost and her disdain for the priests and her disappointing sons?

As for the "Green Jack", he's looking disturbingly like Colin Farrell which is a) annoying because I don't WANT him to, and b) weird because I didn't use Colin Farrell as a reference!  But I've put the acrylic washes/glazes on now (pics tomorrow) and he doesn't look quite so much like him as he did just in the pencil.  The experiment seems to be working ok, except you have to be careful with the pencil onto the canvas and use a really light hand, as it goes on quite dark and it's harder to get the subtlety in shading that you can get on paper.  After the pencil, I gave it a couple of very light coats of spray varnish just to stop the pencil from smudging.  Seemed to work quite well, and the acrylic colour went over the varnish fine, so I think the technique has promise.  Needs some more exploration I think.

Sleeping just beneath the rain

Although the bedroom isn't finished yet, we have moved into the loft.  There's still fiddly bits to finish (trims, lights, and such) and then of course, the decorating, but I have to say, I LOVE sleeping up here.  It rained the other night, and there's just something wonderful about sleeping right up under the roof, all snuggled up under the quilt, listening to the rain on the tin roof just overhead.  Of course, we have a panelled ceiling now and a good layer of insulation, so it's not deafening when it rains, which might not be quite so pleasant.  I'm now wishing we'd thought of it years ago.  It certainly is the perfect solution to space issues in a small bedroom.  The room looks huge now, and we've got floor space!

Our beautiful new jarrah window.  Look, floorspace!  It's going to look gorgeous when we lift the MDF boards up and give the lovely jarrah floorboards a good polish.

Stairway to the stars.

It really is lovely up here.  It's like a cross between being on holiday and being a kid again!

There's a small barrier made of pine here now, just in case Beloved rolls over a bit too far!

We're thinking we might whitewash the pine, just to keep the paleness it has now being freshly sanded, as it will yellow over time otherwise (which is lovely too, but we're thinking pale is the way to go here).  I'm not sure about colours, but I'm leaning towards a soft green on the walls.  What do you think?

And here's a gratuitous shot of my morning latte and fresh Banana Cake, both made by my clever other half (he really is a treasure!)  This is our little courtyard, which is a nice little spot, and will be even nicer once we finish that too (my dodgy 'semi-permanent' paving to be replaced and the wall behind painted), but in at the moment you have to watch out for the bees, as the tree here flowers in Autumn and the bees go absolutely crazy!

I have been practicing the guitar like a good girl, and now have a small blister on my left index finger, as I haven't developed the lovely calluses that a seasoned guitarist has from years of pressing down on the strings.  I'm struggling a bit because I have small hands and it's a bit of a stretch reaching the right frets.  However my teacher says that's no excuse!  And did I mention that he asked me what kind of music I like, and I said just about everything EXCEPT Country and Western (well, that old-time, really even rhythm stuff)...and of course, he turned out to be a really big fan of Country music!  He had a chuckle and I figure, well, I can only go up from here!

I'm also doing some experimenting to see if I can work in pencil on canvas, depending on what kind of varnish might make the medium permanent and not so fragile.  Will post pictures when I progress a bit further.

Guitar lessons and my Better-Half.

Thank you so much for all your lovely thoughts and comments on my last post.  I am glad I wrote it now, if it might have helped someone out there know they're not alone.  But there was something missing from it, something, or rather someone who didn't get a mention simply because I would have been here all night writing and you would have all nodded off long before you got to the end of it.  The same someone who just brought me out a nice hot cup of tea, because it is COLD out here in the studio, winter is finally on its way.

I shall endeavor not to get too soppy, but it must be said, I am blessed to be married to this bloke.  He grieved quietly and deeply for his little girl...and carried on working and meeting deadlines and dealing with clients and paying the bills, while I fell into a howling sea of confusion and pain and sorrow.  He didn't understand the way I was grieving, it scared him and he was afraid he'd lost the woman he loved.  I truly was a mess.  But he never stopped being there for me, he never gave up on me, never decided he couldn't do it anymore, never walked away.  We've been through a couple dark times since then too...and he is always my rock.  He is infinitely patient (he has to be to have put up with me for 24 years!), kind and gentle, makes me laugh all the time, and tells me he loves me many times every day.  He is a wonderful dad to his beautiful girls, and he is also incredibly clever and talented (the 'bedroom makeover' for example, which is nearly done!) though you won't hear that from him.  He considers himself a 'simple bloke', but if simple means honest, open, funny, optimistic, gentle and...well, you get the picture...I'll take 'simple' anytime.  And by the way, I DO mean honest...this is a man who is brave enough to tell me "you know, that skirt makes your bum look really big".  But that's ok, because I know that when he tells me "you look gorgeous tonight", he really means it.  He treats everyone in the same open, honest, friendly way, and hasn't allowed cynicism (or past sorrows) to dampen his enthusiasm for life...I love seeing him excited about some new project, he's like a big kid and it makes me feel excited and enthusiastic too.  He has a lopsided grin, the most beautiful eyes in the world, and did I mention that he's gorgeous?!  He's my Beloved, my Bigger-Half (well, he's 6'4" so not hard), and my Better-Half too.

But enough of all that soppy stuff!  In other news...the 'Vagabond King' didn't exactly get finished in time, but I did take it in to the exhibition.  It just went in as a one-sided wall-hanging rather than a piece of wearable art.  Have you ever worked on something that you KNOW is rubbish, but you keep working on it and telling yourself that it will be ok when it's finished?  My epiphany came at 12:30 am Saturday morning (11 and a half hours before it had to be delivered) when I realised that the other side (or the front of the coat thing) which I'd been working frantically on for 3 days, was rubbish.  It was bad.  It was so bad it made the back look bad too.  It was rushed.  It was a compromise because I didn't have time to finish it how I wanted to.  And my heart wasn't in it.  So I spent the next 2 hours undoing everything I'd done in the last 2 days, until I was left with just the big circle on the red background.  At 3am I was so tired I didn't know what to do next, so I went to bed resigned to the fact that I wasn't going to make the deadline.   In the morning, Beloved and I sat on the couch with our morning coffees, me looking and feeling decidedly worse for wear, and looked at it spread out on the floor.  He said "when's it got to be in?"  I said "3 hours."  He said "must be something you could do."  I said " suppose I could just hem it, make a casing at the top and stick something through."  So to cut a long story short, I found myself frantically hemming, by hand, all round the whole thing, while Beloved went and hack-sawed off the end of an old metal curtain rod and rooted around in the garage for some wire to hang it from.  Upshot is, I finished it at 11:35am, leapt into the car, got there at 12:05pm to drop it off, and thankfully they accepted it.  Then I went home and passed out on the couch for several hours!

The other exciting thing (for me, probably not for the rest of the family, or my neighbours) is that today I had my very first guitar lesson.  I've wanted to play for so long (my very talented brother plays beautifully), so I decided the only way I'd ever get around to doing it is if I booked a whole block of lessons.  So guess what Beloved bought me for my birthday?  I have no illusions about becoming a guitar maestro, but it would be nice to be able to sing and play along.  And apparently learning new skills is a good way to keep the brain healthy, so wish me luck.

Morgan's little sister, with her very proud and happy Dad, nine years ago this August.  It's ok, her nose doesn't look like that now!