A Closet Nerd, That's Me

I used to design and build websites (it was my own business), but moving to S Korea for 4 years made it impossible to continue. And I have to admit that, while I was there, I didn't actually miss it as much as I could or should have.

Now a days, from time to time, I only put sites together for close family or friends as a favour. I'm not getting paid which is probably taking the pressure off and I'm really enjoying it as a result.

Web design for me, is a different kind of creativity. I love (don't laugh now) getting down and dirty with coding and fiddling about with technical stuff. I can spend a whole day splashing colour, pattern and images about, and I don't get all messy. If I make a mistake, I don't have to chuck paper or canvas out either, I can just click the mouse a few times to go back a few steps and do it again.

Don't get me wrong, I love painting, but doing something completely different on the odd occasion is utterly refreshing.

Then again, I used to be really sneaky and combine drawing with my site designing, creating entirely hand drawn sites, just to keep my painting hand in.

Come to think of it, after reading through the above gush of enthusiasm, maybe I do miss it. Just a little, tiny, tiny, wee bit...

Image: One of my sites, Tramp2Vamp, now known as NHJ Style Consultancy.

Source Material

I love sketching outside; I take all sorts of materials out with me, pencils, watercolours, chalk pastels, water based felt pens and inks. I find myself sitting somewhere for hours on end drawing one thing after another in detail, quickly scribbling a couple of lines or using my camera, depending on how much time I have. But sometimes the sketches or photos I've taken just don't inspire me and I need to turn elsewhere.

At the moment I'm in the mood for moody skies but I haven't had the chance to get out into the country lately nor have I seen the skies that thrill me enough to want to paint them.

However, a very kind friend and superb photographer, Callum McLellan (http://callummaclellan.zenfolio.com/) has come to the rescue and has given me permission to use his rather wonderful photographs as source material. He's very talented you know.

So thank you Callum for coming to the rescue. Let's hope I can do your work some justice.

Image: One of my own photos that makes me think, meh, I need something a lot better.

Vandalism and Other Irritations

It's not been the best start to the year. One of my paintings, hanging in an exhibition, has been vandalised. Somewhat upsetting as it is gratingly obvious.

Someone just decided to pick off some of the light coloured thick paint right in the middle of the canvas revealing a hole at the bottom of which is dark under paint. It was just such a pointless thing to do, and I find it distressing. What does it say about the painting, or my work, or me as an artist?

Meanwhile, I have been told that my paintings are morbid and have been asked if I could do something cheerier, like flower paintings. I was somewhat taken aback and rather upset (stoically tried not to show it) as I've never heard my landscapes and skyscapes described like that, certainly not to my face.

I find the criticism all the more confusing as the people doing the opining have my paintings in a corridor against dark wallpaper. The lighting is angled at the dark blue carpeted floor and not my paintings. I'm trying not to let it bother me, but I still find it unsettling even though the conditions aren't exactly of a gallery quality.

Here's one of the morbid ones; let me know what you think.

Image: New Year's Day, Troon, oil on canvas, 102 x 76cm (40 x 30")

So Much To Do...

It's January (I'll assume you've already noticed), and I've been painting again, at last. I can't believe how much I missed it over the festive period. But I'm having difficulty concentrating as I have so many things that need to be sorted for this month and I probably should have finished them before Christmas.

I have been asked to send paintings into Smithy Gallery for their handing in days from the 21st-23rd January. They are holding an Affordable Art Fair, where all paintings are under £500. I have one done (you can see it at an early stage in my Experimentation blog, and now finished in the image above). Another one is just started and I'm messing about with it the same way as the one below, but I'm not at all happy with the way it is looking at the moment. I think a bit of sanding down of the guache is in order, then I'll use some chalk pastels.

I have also been asked to donate a painting to The Prince and Princess of Wales Hospice, based here in Glasgow, for sale in their "A Celebration of Burns" charity auction (that is, Robert Burns, the Scottish poet, not a party for those who got frazzled while cooking the Christmas dinner, thought I should clear that up). This painting has to be handed in by the 15th January.

Regardless of how many canvases I need to have finished this month, I have to have paintings that I am happy with. And then I have to get them framed which can take up to 2 weeks.

Of course, that's not taking into account all the competitions I want to enter, so I have to think of work for them too. The exciting part is that I never know what I am going to produce, but whatever it is I'll be happy with it for a while (just a wee while).

Image: Beinn Damph, mixed media on board, 41 x 25cm (16" x 10")

Festive Frustration

Even though it is just the beginning of winter, everything is melting. The rivers are full but there is still snow lying where the sun can't reach it and pathways are treacherous with a layer of compacted ice under a layer of water.


Today I stood at the top of a cliff that dropped 50m down to a rushing river; on the opposite side of the gorge, snow sat on ledges all the way up the cliff face, while enormous icicles dripped down like teeth. For Scotland this is such an unusual sight.


But it's all so beautiful. I am desperate to paint it just now but can't get near my studio because of commitments. Sooooooo frustrating, maybe more so because I am away from home and I can't even access the photos I took of the icicles. I must apologise for no picture to go along with this blog.

But, come the 5th January, I'll be back at it, splashing paint, listening to loud music, making a mess and having a great time. Woohoo!

Meanwhile, I'm gathering reference photos of snowy, misty fields, rust coloured bracken and ferns and ice covered waterfalls ready for my activities at the beginning of 2011.

Have a Happy New Year one and all.

Getting Organised

Christmas Day, in case you didn't know, has been and gone. I invited 10 for dinner this year, and really, truly looked forward to it. I love cooking and having everyone over, it's just another form of creativity I suppose.

I meticulously planned the menu, taking into account the 1 vegetarian (who had a completely separate meal), designed and made the table decoration (sweetie and icing decorated gingerbread house centre piece with sprinkled marshmallows on a white tablecloth and white crockery) and timetabled (yes, with tick boxes too) exactly when I should be chopping, pureeing, baking, refrigerating, blending, drizzling, basting and most importantly, tasting (just in the hope that it tastes good).

I shock myself every year by how organised, unnerved and relaxed I am about the whole affair, knowing that I will calmly (well almost) serve dinner exactly when I said I would, fully cooked, unburnt, reasonably seasoned and eaten by all (and if I'm really lucky, they might have even enjoyed it too).

Why can't I do this in my working life? I feel so bogged down with all I need and want to do, ideas and plans that whirl about my head, and only seem able to achieve half of it. I think I need to take stock of my activities over the past 3 days and try to apply my kitchen common sense to my studio.

Image: My yearly planner, bereft of plans - for the moment.

Royal Institute of Oil Painters

I decided to bite the bullet and apply to an open exhibition in London. It was for the Royal Institute of Oil Painters. I filled in the forms, panicked about my choice of painting, wondered if I should even be doing this, (oh God, am I even good enough), mused on the possibility that my entering meant that I was sufficiently arrogant in believing my paintings were of an equal quality to other exhibiting artists, and felt depressed as I wrote a cheque for the £10 that was being thrown away as my painting was probably going to be rejected anyway.

At the allotted time I took myself and my painting to an agreed meeting point for the carrier who would take my artwork to London. There were a couple of other artists there at the same time. We were all hugging our work so no one could see what was on the canvases. I was just worried that the others would see mine and start sniggering because they were so much better than me.

I paid a further £18.50 to have the painting couriered to London, and sloped off heart hammering and nervously wondering how I could possibly think I was ready yet to exhibit with proper professionals.

Needless to say, my painting was rejected today, and I'm going to have to fork out another £18.50 to get it back.

Amazingly, I'll enter another painting to another exhibition on another occasion. I seem to thrive on self doubt.

Above: Walk into Suilven (Tracy Butler's website)

Exhibition Hanging Gone Mad

I have been dreading today, and now that it is over, I'm dreading the next time I have to do it.

I have my paintings scattered around the Glasgow area a bit at the moment. As well as in galleries, I have 3 semi-permanent solo exhibitions in an office building, a country club and a dental practice; but today I changed all my paintings round, introducing new ones, while moving older ones between the venues if you get my drift. Hanging an exhibition takes time, as there are so many considerations - you have to make it look good so that nothing detracts from the artwork. All the paintings in a row have to be level (either the tops or the bottoms), if they are hung in columns, the larger one goes at the top, then all centred. And before that, which painting goes where has to be decided. Never mind the physical work of packing the car (ensuring frames are protected), then carrying each canvas into the venue, then lifting it into place while struggling with ladders, chairs, hooks and picture wire, oh, and health and safety. Finally labelling has to be added, making sure it is clear, and unobtrusive all at the same time.

I took down the country club exhibition last night (late last night), leaving their walls bare. This morning I rushed to the dentist and cleared those ones out, dashing to the office block before 10am as they had a Christmas Carol concert at 12:00pm in the foyer, and I had be finished rehanging by then. With the help of the wonderful John, my largest work was hung in Skypark within the allotted time. I snaffled a sandwich and headed back to the Whitemoss Dental Practice in East Kilbride where I discovered their walls were crumbling and wouldn't accept picture hooks - eep! On solving that problem, I headed to the Parklands Country Club, staggered in with all that I had left, and realised that I was running out of energy; the paintings are up though.

There you go, all done 25 paintings taken down and 29 hung. Time for a very hot bath, but I have a 4 year old...

Rannoch Moor Sketching

Rannoch Moor is my favourite place in the world.

Quite a while back (as you may be able to tell from the painting - I like to think I have improved since then) I was sketching there on a particularly dull day. Kate Bush's The Kick Inside was my album of choice; and I make no apologies for the music I listen to when I work.
I had a large A2 sketchbook with me and my usual supplies, a jar of water, sable brushes ranging in size, watercolours, water soluble felt pen (black), pencils and my camera.

I did a few not so great drawings and watercolours, but the star of that day was the sky. It had been a nothing grey when the clouds thinned and suddenly more and more sunbeams broke through, highlighting everything they hit. Then the clouds, now outlined in silver light, split to show bright blue cloudless sky before closing up as if nothing had happened.

It happened too quickly for me to draw the moment, but I managed to get my camera out on time. Thank heavens for photography.

These photos lead to a number of paintings. It's amazing how a few seconds in nature can lead to inspiration that lasts years.

Above: Sunshine on Rannoch Moor (www.tracybutler.co.uk)

Winter Weather Blues

It's been snowing pretty heavily here in Scotland, unusual for this time of year. Go on, laugh, I know you think Scotland is always freezing and we are used to snow up to our ears, but funnily enough it's normally cold, rainy and windy in November and December, snow normally doesn't feature.

As a result of the weather, though, everything is being cancelled. Craft fairs (where I advertise my paintings and sell greetings cards, prints, fridge magnets and key rings) that I depend on at this time of year are not going ahead which is incredibly frustrating and very disappointing. I have spent a fortune preparing all my stock. And with no income from the craft fairs, I cannot advertise my online shop for the Christmas season; mind you I have to ask myself if that is such a bad thing as I can't get to the post office to send out any orders - and the painting carrier I normally use can't get here either.

On the rather bright, sparkly side, as the sun begins to set, the snow starts to glow a golden pink that I can't wait to start painting.

Image: Possible painting subject as it is too cold to paint outside, but the photo will do for just now.