In the workshop we’ve carried on studying this elegant flower (that’s beautifully unfurled as the days have passed), depicting it in multiple ways depending on preference and experience .

We aimed to bunch several tulips together, after last week’s focus on single stems. Some of us chose to paint a big, bright bouquet in a jug, where as others zoomed in on a few flowers up close. One brave student drew a detailed composition using only a graphite pencil.

Before class I spent a few happy (and sometimes frustrating) hours painting tulips in different ways using watercolour and pen, as I like to come to the workshop prepared with examples of my own sketches showing elements of success, as well as mistakes, to share as a start point.

I love the splashy, fluid style sometimes seen on my Pinterest feed so I tried, in vain, to capture tulips using this approach. It was fun blobbing vibrant colours onto the paper, and a good way to warm-up, but just not me.

Next, I went for a a bolder, more sculptural style, using pen to hatch in shade and add structure. This was nearer my usual style of drawing, however I felt I was trying too hard, having lost the ‘loosened up’ feel of the previous exercise.

Finally, I used a more traditional method; drawing the delicate composition first, then adding increasingly darker layers of watercolour to pick out the petals. The difficulty with this style is keeping the light areas light and paint free when applying the varying shades of paint.

My last endeavour was an engrossing way to properly study the form of the tulips, but still not really me and I admit to overworking it (a common mistake). Good to experiment though! To try new things, exploring an object and a medium in far more depth than usual.

Painting flowers, especially bold tulips in a bunch, lifts the spirits and focuses the mind. It continues to be a challenge that doesn’t come naturally to me, and some of my students have encountered similar frustrations along the way. Yet, oh the power of ‘yet’…

I’m now going to get my tubes of acrylic out and try again.

A very happy Easter weekend to everyone. Hope there’s lots of chocolate at the ready…

This week at the workshop we put seascapes behind us and opted to paint a beautifully bright bunch of seasonal tulips instead.

The magenta and yellow blooms had caught my eye on a mundane trip to the local Co-Op. It was heartening to see that they’d been grown in Britain, so I snapped up a few bunches to brighten the house. Far more exciting than a pint of milk!

Their cupped petals, curling long leaves and robust stems make for bold, clear shapes, which are an excellent subject for a drawing study:

Students started by looking at different styles used by a range of artists to depict flowers - flat, blocked out acrylic (like our earlier still life daffodils), flowing, lively watercolours and detailed botanical drawings.

When inspired, we sketched out single tulips using a range of different materials - coloured pencils, watercolour & soluble crayons and pencils, chalk pastel and oil pastel. The latter of these we found difficult to control on a small scale, with watercolour based materials coming out as a favoured medium:

These beautiful flowers are more challenging to draw than they first appear, making us all look carefully at the delicate petal folds and dark interior. This meant everyone kept focused and present, proving that detailed drawing studies are a great way to truly escape into the moment and leave worries at the studio door.

Next week, we’ll investigate how to compile a composition of multiple blooms that will fill the paper with even more colour and joy.

I look forward to sharing our progress 🤗.

Up north, this is a month of extremes - glorious sunshine, coffee outside in the garden, buds starting to unfurl, then a blast of snow and a hard morning frost to remind us that summer is still a long way off.

I have to hold back any urges to splurge on seedlings at the local garden centre and over tidy flowerbeds, knowing from bitter experience that young plants aren’t safe outside yet, and insects still need leaf cover to survive.

At our monthly journaling class we chatted about enjoying the little moments in the sunshine that the weather had allowed us - nipping out quickly with that coffee when the conditions turn clement. But no planning of picnics yet!

I then shared a collection of objects and sketches that reminded me of little things I’d experienced or noticed recently:

• Some very pretty tissue paper covered in spring colours that wrapped a present I received.

• A couple of atmospheric cards by Carol McEwan, that I’d bought in Pitlochrie and Carnoustie to remind me of my travels.

• A bright printed woodpecker card by Angela Harding, as I’ve been hearing the distinctive drumming in the wilderness near the house.

• A handmade bar of honey soap that a good friend had brought me back from France.

• A bunch of seasonal blooms.

• A lovely wee depiction of a bumblebee by Anthony Wright, that another friend had kindly given me.

• Lastly, we flicked through the March pages of Catherine Hyde’s beautiful seasonal book:

The bumble bees have finally started to surface after a difficult winter, circling my beds of heather to find much needed sustenance. I’m happy to see them, but also slightly worried that a sharp drop in temperature leads a to a far too short bumbly life - Another glimpse of nature to enjoy in the moment.

My collection of objects lead on to a collection of words describing the colours, sights and feelings they inspired - We started writing text in different ways, creating the central title to surround with descriptions of the month. ‘March’ is a great word to do this with as it has simple lettering and isn’t too long, unlike February.

At last, onto the images… We played around with making and using stencils to create symbols to use on backgrounds for our journal pages - Starting by cutting easy petal shapes out of card (with a sharp scalpel, pressing onto a board), then using a sponge and a small amount of acrylic paint to print through with. I also brought out my collection of doilies and pre-bought stencils for more intricate patterns, as my cutting skills are limited to say the least!

By spending time building up backgrounds with watercolour washes and stencil prints, we gave ourselves time to think before deciding on the final words and images to add to the pages:

It was a joy to forget the troubles of the wider world and escape into the moment with our journals this March, recording snippets of the little things that have made us smile.

It’s a standard composition, but reminds me of many such paths trodden on past excursions to various beaches on the east coast of Scotland - rolling dunes, wide sands, rolling waves and big skies…

I used a mixture of watercolour washes and layers of acrylic, especially when painting the grasses.

I also took an ornithological detour, depicting the unloved but rather majestic seagull. This finished off the acrylics on my pallet (as squirted out far too much as usual) and I’m rather happy with the rendition. See what you think…

The beaches provided fantastic examples of potential painterly compositions that include waves meeting the sand, as well as wonderfully swishy grasses, adding interest to the foreground. Lots to get inspired by!

In the weekly workshop we’d focussed on experimenting with a mix of media to portray both of these coastal elements, starting with very quick and colourful sketches in our long format folded sketchbooks.

I enjoyed showing the students how to combine watercolour washes with touches of white acrylic, streaks of water soluble crayon, wax and oil pastel to create the feeling of movement seen when foamy waves wash up on the shore.

We also sprinkled different types of salt over wet watercolour washes to see what effects could be made. This technique is very unpredictable, and patience is needed before brushing the salt off - It has to be dry or the paint smudges.

After a few experiments, we moved onto practising foregrounds, working into pebbles, building textures onto rocks, spattering sandy beaches and layering fronds of grass with thin brush strokes and pencil marks.

This isn’t an easy area of a painting to conclude, as it’s difficult to know how much detail is too much or too little. A top tip is to keep stopping for cups of tea, so you can regularly return to a painting with fresh eyes and get a chance to view it from a distance. Also, keep varying marks and strokes, building layers across the paper, rather than getting stuck on one little area.

The sketches below are quick investigations into techniques I might want to use later on:

Following a couple of hours exploring what can be done with different marks and materials, we’ve end up with a comprehensive collection of sketches to move forward from.

Next week we’ll be starting a final painting of a favourite seascape, which is always exciting, but can be equally intimidating. Hopefully reviewing all the initial work in our sketchbooks will help quell fears and spark the creative flame…

Why seascapes? Why not? No matter the time of year, visiting the coast can lift the spirits - Whether it be while battling the elements on a windy cliff walk, staring in awe at the powerful waves crashing onto the beach below, or when relaxing at a seaside cafe to sketch seabirds on a balmy day. I always return to the coast for a source of endless inspiration…

Unfortunately, my studio is 16 miles from the North Sea so I’ve searched out multiple collections of shells, pebbles, scrap and art books to help inspire the class inside:

When starting a new project I often look up favourite artists’ work, sift through old sketchbooks, flick through my scrap books and browse Pinterest. Then a nugget of an idea can develop into a more coherent picture.

For wonderful coastal paintings it’s worth searching for artists that exhibit at the Great Atlantic Gallery, Falmouth. Kurt Jackson’s exhibition catalogues and website are also well worth a look. There’s no shame in closely studying other people’s paintings, learning from the experts (as artists have always done) then picking snippets of their successful compositions and techniques to develop further in your own style and practice.

Another way to kick start the creative process, which I’ve mentioned before, is to warm up with some simple sketches of objects related to a chosen theme - Feeling a smooth pebble or exploring the spirals of a favourite shell, before quickly depicting them using a favourite pencil or piece of charcoal, can help overcome any initial blocks… It can be very hard to get into the right headspace if you’ve just been dealing with life admin. and only have an hour to spare.

Personally, I’ve been pondering over a particular sketch I did in November for a while now. I scribbled it quickly while on the west coast near the Sands of Morar, looking across to the islands of Rum & Eigg . So this is the time to use that sketch as a starting point…

To develop the sketch further I made a 4 sided, long landscape shaped book out of a strip of heavy watercolour paper, then started to take a wide brush full of watercolour paint for a walk across it, adding in lines, scribbles and splashes - this relatively scrappy piece of paper has given me the freedom to loosen up and explore colour, texture and composition further:

Everyone at the workshop chose a different start point, using photographs of favourite coastal spots or images from a magazine. Some combined several pictures, as the initial pice of inspiration doesn’t have to be copied precisely. The first sketches will evolve over the next few weeks into truly person paintings, which will be exciting to see…

When walking through the woods, I have been trying to leave the headphones behind so I can better notice the details surrounding me: The wilderness floor is still covered with collapsed ferns, holding onto their bright green fronds, as well as delicately decaying deciduous leaves, turning from autumn gold to winter white in the low light. The odd lone pigeon feather marks the spot where a death defying fight with a cat/fox/badger took place some time before. I hope the pigeon escaped…

Splashes of colour lift the spirits as winter enters it’s final phase - bright aconites turn their heads to the sun; pink skies at sunrise help make feeding the hens in the early morning a joy, rather than a daily chore.

Inside, the inner urge to sort and clean for spring means forgotten drawers are being riffled through. A pile of old 1970s greetings cards are discovered, along with a reel of fading lace ribbon and a detailed Victorian (?) commemorative card celebrating the registration of a long forgotten birth.

Lots to ponder on and record in my final entry to the journal this month…

I flick back through past pages, spend a while browsing favourite books showing beautifully depicted birds, snowdrops, daffodils and aconites. Then I take a breath, light a candle, lay out my found objects, collect together any favourite bits of equipment needed and get comfortable. Time to start:

• Objects: chamomile teabag & box, feathers, old greetings cards, pheasant washi tape, lace ribbon, ferns and decaying leaves, wrinked rose hip, honest seed heads (lucky pennies), bird & fern patterned tissue paper, old music book

• Books: A Field Guide to the Birds of Britain & Europe by Roger Peterson, Guy Mountfort & A.A.D. Hollom

  Spotting & Jotting Guide our Brotish Birds by Matt Sewell

  The Hare & the Moon by Catherine Hyde

  The Birds of Britain & Europe

  Birdsong by Madeleine Floyd

  The Lost Spells by Robert MacFarlane & Jackie Morris

• Poem:

  “Hope” is the thing with feathers

  By Emily Dickinson

  “Hope” is the thing with feathers -

  That perches in the soul -

  And sings the tune without the words -

  And never stops - at all -

  And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

  And sore must be the storm -

  That could abash the little Bird

  That kept so many warm -

  I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

  And on the strangest Sea -

  Yet - never - in Extremity,

  It asked a crumb - of me.

• Equipment: mini watercolour palette, 3 brushes (fine, square and pointed), gold acrylic ink and dip pen, 4B pencil, rubber, kitchen paper, scissors, PVA, recyclable tape

On Thursday we looked back at all the lovely experiments we’d been making in our sketchbooks, discussing the colours, compositions and techniques that we could successfully combine together. Then we took the plunge and started working up the best bits into a final piece…

Firstly, a heavy A3 leaf of watercolour paper was prepared by using masking tape to define the area. Then gesso was liberally slapped all over the masked space with a large brush. I enjoy this bit as you can get some lovely textures with gesso that’ll make for an interesting surface to work on, it’s also quite satisfying to ladle on white gloop without worrying too much.

When thoroughly dried, a light sketch of objects in a pastel pencil was added - this can be easily rubbed out if needed. Once happy with the composition, the fist layers of colour were blocked in, covering the white space as quickly as possible:

For me, it’s a relief when the white disappears…

Onto layering colour, textures and working into the shapes - moving around the paper so the whole painting is coming together, rather than getting stuck focusing on a small corner of detail. A top tip is to step back from the easel reasonably regularly to look at the picture from a distance, before deciding where to go next. And the joy of acrylic is things can always be changed!

I built up the simple shapes and patterns, using squares of tissue for extra texture in places, as well as printing with good old bubble wrap. I then went back to look at the form of the fruit, adding shadow to create a bit of depth and break up the flat feel of the surface.

Finally, what to do with that flower? I’d sketched lots of daffodils in my book but decided to go for a delicate snow drop instead. I love the petal shape and wanted the eye to be immediately drawn to the juicy, bright lemon. 🍋

Even at this stage it’s ok to change your plan and play a bit. Others in the workshop had painted beautiful snowdrops and I learnt from them:

I’m reasonably happy with the final outcome, however I rarely paint still life and have loads to learn - I would love to be looser with brush strokes and, on reflection, the lemon might be too big! But working with beautiful objects and bright colours with my lovely students has been uplifting. Overall, a very positive project for the depths of winter!

Next week, something totally different - salty mixed media seascapes. 🤗🖌️

Last week we continued to busily fill up our homemade sketchbooks with more compositions, patterns and shapes, preparing to embark on a final still life painting next Thursday.

Before we did that, I set a few warm-up exercises to engage the creative brain and get into the right headspace - a place where mistakes can happen… I think we all struggle with this - Ingrained life long lessons on how important it is to get everything just right are hard to forget.

So, here are a few ways to get used to the uncomfortable feeling of creating imperfect art, which even the most accomplished artists do, although they’ll rarely share the images on Instagram:

1. Choose a few bits of drawing equipment you hardly ever use and feel wary off. In my case these are all types of pastels (oil and chalk). Limit your palette too, with maybe just 2 colours (a dark and lighter tone to create contrast).

2. Find a few objects to draw, such as an interesting shaped pot. Make sure you love these objects and are inspired to draw them, and add a tricky item into the mix just to increase the discomfort.

3. Have a timer near as you’ll be doing quick, fast sketching and without a timer the urge to keep correcting will be too much to resist!

4. Open up a double page of your sketchbook and go for it - a few 1 minute sketches of different objects using the colours and equipment chosen.

5. Now swap hands. Quick sketching using the wrong hand, looking up at the object as much as possible.

6. Next, it’s time to sketch in one colour without lifting the pastel/pencil off the page. As soon as you lift it, stop.

7. An even trickier exercise is to use both hands at once. One colour in each. Eek! Very uncomfortable.

8. Don’t look down! Draw without looking at the page, just the object. This really focuses the mind.

9. Finally, look at all the lovely mistakes, laugh, learn from them and share…

I devised this week’s class in the midst of grey, thinking that washy watercolour skies had run their course and it was time to change tack. So, the bright, brash acrylic tubes came out and I flicked through books of artists’ work that I knew enjoyed using bold colours - Peploe, Matisse, Claire Flanigan and Elizabeth Blackadder came to mind:

The lemons in Claire Flanigan’s work caught my eye immediately - Mediterranean fruits that’d bring sunshine into the studio.

An idea for a series of lessons focusing on painting an abstracted still life with acrylic formed rapidly (helped along by coffee, of course). This would be the opposite of a watercolour landscape and a cheery challenge for all, including me!

Firstly, how to limit choice… Too many options when constructing a composition and deciding on a palette can confuse, and even stall, creative progress. I opted to pick 3 (ish) items - lemons because of their wonderful acidic hue, which went well with some pretty peacock feathers I’d found hiding in a little ceramic vase. I also added a lime in for good measure, as couldn’t resit the bright green.

Then I chose 4 colours - Cadmium Yellow (light), Ultramarine, Cobalt Teal, and a bit of good old Titanium White (Is white a colour? Discussion for another day…) Planning would be carried out in a simple hand folded sketchbook, that I’d watched Helen Wells make in one of her amazing youtube videos.

Our first lesson focused on folding the sketchbooks, followed by playing with the acrylic paints, adding some textures and patterns, using a 2/3 to 1/3 split of the background, or a one colour surface. Then, flattening out the shapes into simple planes so that we thought more about composition, and less about detail and form:

Tissue paper pressed down on wet acrylic (not too runny) makes fabulous effects. The dried tissue can then be cut into shapes and stuck on to areas using a thin coat of PVA glue (brushed under and then over the tissue to flatten it out nicely).

I also had some fun with bubble wrap. There’s so much floating about after Christmas that it might as well be put to good use for printing with. Both these techniques came in useful when constructing backgrounds for my January Visual Journal as well.

By the end of class the sun was shining inside and outside the studio! The best bits of the sketchbook work will be developed into a final composition next week, and in the mean time I need to figure out what to do with all the lemons and limes I’ve bought - g & t?

The students have done lots of lovely preparation, building up the confidence to tackle a finished landscape at last.

The idea was to start by doing a loose sketch, plotting out composition and colour quickly to get the creative brain going. However, some sketches went on to become their final piece; I should have set a timer! But that would have disturbed the flow, and sketches can often develop into very successful artwork as there’s far less internal pressure - a lesson for me.

Those that developed an initial sketch further by upsizing onto a larger watercolour block did show progression with their series of pieces. Each one gaining depth with bolder techniques and colour.

Here is the example I’d prepared for them to show the process from start to finish:

The biggest take away from the class was people better understanding the different layers needed, learning when to step away and let a wash dry before going back in to add more definition and detail with wet paint on dry paper. Also, how to leave white or light space from the start - such a tricky lesson to learn when using watercolours! I’m still getting to grips with it, so this painting was a great way to experiment with different brush techniques and when to step away and leave things alone:

Many also voiced their need to explore colours palettes and mixing options further. This comes with time and practice, but I’ve looked carefully at what I usually use, creating a list of colours I find most useful (for watercolour and acrylic painting).

Next, no matter what the weather is like outside, we’re going to bring a little sunshine into the studio. We’ll be composing beautiful, bright, slightly abstracted still life acrylic pictures - I’m thinking a mixture of lemons, oranges, deep blue backdrops and bunches of acid green and white snowdrops in jugs… Having a break from watercolour and discovering a whole new medium will hopefully lift the wintery spirits.

The idea of this class is to give students two hours of stress-free time to collate and depict their recent thoughts, inspirations and experiences, as well as explore new journaling techniques in a relaxed environment (with coffee and cake, of course).

The practice of visual journaling encourages deeper reflection while engaging in a form of creative escape from an overly busy world. January, especially, can by an overwhelming time, so noticing, then recording the more beautiful moments of the past month can definitely help stave off the blues...

Before starting our journals we made a quick mind map (or list) about our January experiences using collected words and phrases, such as: wet, wintery, dreich (a good Scots word meaning drizzly and grey), freezing, sharp icicles, snow, fire pit, cosy sofa, blue, snowflake, frost, moss, bare branches, and many more…

Then we chatted and delved into poetry books, also flicking through magazines to collect literary and visual snippets for translating onto a page later. Both these exercises can be done throughout the month, rather than just in one big session at the end. I have a scrap book and A4 sized box for keeping torn out pictures from monthlies such as Country Living, as well as any textured, patterned papers or greetings cards that I find. I then enjoy rummaging through them whenever in need of inspiration.

The blank page can be daunting, so the second part of the class was spent playing with ways to create backgrounds that help break up the expanse of white in a newly opened journal.

Firstly, we chose a favourite medium (or more) - I demonstrated how to use layers of acrylic, splodges of acrylic ink and tissue paper to collage with in a limited (icy) colour palette. Others tried out mossy green watercolours next to pieces of decoupage paper.

The key is to play and embrace any mistakes made. They can always be covered up or incorporated into a more detailed sketch later on, or simply left alone to help tell the creative journey of the year.

When happy with a background we proceeded to add simple key words by printing letters or sticking down photocopied, torn out, phrases from poems or magazines.

Words from Winter Trees by Sylvia Plath had given me a beautifully melancholy descriptive springboard for some earlier January journaling:

Next month, students will come laden with ideas and notes, as well as their own creative pages and collections to share. I look forward to seeing what February brings.

Firstly we did a quick warmup using a few favourite colours and 2 types of brush - a pointed, reasonably chubby brush (size 12) and a medium sized flat head brush (size 13 to 14). Then we played around for 10 minutes making marks, strokes, splodges and experimenting with adding more water or blotting out colour with kitchen paper.

The key is not to paint anything in particular, just let the brush, hand and mind wonder… Any warmup helps engage the creative brain and cast off the trepidation of starting something new.

Our main exercise went on to use these 2 brushes again, as well as a limited palette:

We concertinaed a long strip of heavy weight, textured Archers A2 watercolour paper, that I’d torn to size and folded into 4 sections. We then set out to create 4 different skies: puffy clouds within cobalt blue, wintery, stormy greys, capturing deeper blues of early evening, and finally adding touches of sun dipping golden yellow glows.

Practicing painting skies offers endless possibilities to escape into…

We layered the paint onto a mixture of wet and dry paper, the only constraints being - no pencil sketch first and all 4 skies had to show different techniques and tones.

Once the initial skies had been finished students felt able to take one step further, going on to create more detailed pictures, adding simple foregrounds when the initial backdrop had dried.

Next week, we’ll pull together everything learned over the last 3 sessions to create a final piece of amazing art depicting watery skies and winter trees.

I’ve been playing around with ways to overcome the blank page and the fear of using the highly unpredictable medium of watercolours when starting out on a creative journey.

Over Christmas I saved some beautiful cards and tore a couple up, stuck the halves down leaving a good gap, then painted in between.

It meant I didn’t have to think too hard about subject matter and composition, focusing on using watercolour and other drawing media to carry the picture across the page.

I introduced this to the students last week, where we were looking at drawing trees with ink and watercolour. It was a bit daunting for some at first, however they all produced amazing, very different, interpretations of simple linear washes with trees in the foreground. Acrylic ink in black was vividly dark against the misty blues and purples needed for the background.

People discovered that creating washes was trickier than first thought, due to the difference a range of pigments, water content and brush strokes can create. More experimenting is needed, so we’ll explore more techniques next week…

It’s been fantastic getting back to teaching adults drawing and painting after a very long break, in which I gained my teaching qualifications and taught primary children for 12 years. Luckily I’ve found that planning skills are definitely transferable between the age groups!

Our first class focused on mark making using different types of drawing equipment in a limited palette: We looked at examples of sketches by artists such as Van Gogh, Joan Eardley, Beatrix Potter and Barbara Rae (I made sure to include plenty of women artists). We then copied the styles of patterns and marks that people found most appealing using charcoal, soft graphite, pencils and chalk.

The final exercise brought their favourite technique and piece of drawing equipment together, depicting a natural found object of their choice. This enabled everyone to think more about texture than form, which can be overwhelming for beginners, although depicting lichen was a challenge!

It was so cheering to teach such enthusiastic and friendly students - a great way to start the year!

This took place over the weekend and was a great success. It’s so gratifying meeting customers and seeing creations go to good homes.

Back to the easel this week to finish a few final commissions before holidays begin.

It started off well, and I enjoyed painting with larger, freer brushstrokes. Then it went very spooky as I started adding the trees, and I reached a turning point where the painting might have turned into a Halloween illustration.

But no, back to autumnal colours and adding detail. Lots of lovely detail that I get lost in creating; the process of layering up multiple delicate marks is very calming.