Two predators, one real, one fantasy……
Some watercolours of Avebury Stone Circle and of Stonehenge…..
These paintings have been used extensively on this blog. They were created using powdered inks dusted over watercolour paper, and then spraying water over them.
The second painting also has flower stems added in with watercolour pens.
Let’s have some summer fun. A weekly art fest, some old paintings , some new….
I grab my pencils, mostly old and blunt,
scramble for a sharpener, my sketchbook
then connect to Zoom
run hands through unruly hair,
so long now in lockdown,
clean my glasses with my clothes.
The class begins. This week it’s
Maxine from Greece, his lithe body
first reaching and arching upwards
back turned coyly to the camera
we have ten minutes only to capture
the length and proportion of limbs,
that pert bottom,
not that I notice it,
the way every knee has a front, a face
and it must be drawn right.
Use the light and shadows to
give heft and bulk, says our tutor in Germany,
embolden key lines to make your drawing stand out.
The pose changes, now he drapes himself across a chair
one leg stretching out to the lens
and I grimace at the challenge of foreshortening
making his leg look as if it is coming out of my page
I try to see the shapes, the curve of his torso here
a triangle of negative space there
how his knee is on the same level as his nose.
All too soon, Maxime bids his farewells as we clap
then we show our various efforts to each other.
After each class, I am always tired
drained with the effort of trying to
achieve a human body on my grubby page.
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
With eyes that cannot meet mine
you appear meek, yet she
who breathed life in you
was out for the kill
I am stuck
frigid as you
held by your
lines and wrinkles
Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond
This poem was in response to the artwork below. It was written for the Rattle Ekphrastic Challenge last December. The current Challenge can be found here.
Merry Christmas one and all…..
Art and philosophy
Elegant, sparse, fluid
With singular precision
Product of a moment
Product of a life’s practice
Product of the ages
Open to all with the time and open focus
Pad left open, pen laid down
Beauty and meaning await
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Clouds herald dawn with flame and gold
escort the sun, clothe mountains
paint landscapes with flying shadows
move in silent and solitary grandeur
or blanket the sky
are torn and hurled by wind and storm
unvaried, cloudless skies stifle and suffocate
clouds are the artists of the sky
Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Cleaving through the waves
A wooden sailing boat
Races its kindred
In the regatta
Brought back to life and beauty
Restored to some use
But not the original fatal one
Man against beast
Hand launched harpoon
Against the deep diving leviathan
A dreadful trade
Forged in harsh necessity
Killing Whales and men
In this isolated archipelago
As the boat turns into the wind
A bright Orange speeder passes close
Bouncing from wave to wave
Full of tourists
Out to hunt whales
With their cameras
Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond