Seeds of inspiration

In an effort to provoke my atrophied brain into creating something that isn't an email I've been carrying my fella's camera around a lot, snapping away at anything remotely inspirational. Here are a few of my favourites from the past couple of days, most of which I'll be attempting to use as the basis for a piece of mixed medium wall art.

These first few were taken the other day at my parents' house, the place I grew up in. It's a gorgeous old place in the arse end of nowhere and, as is often the way with people who are used to living comfortably within their means, they've got a wonderful healthy disrespect for things like cleanliness and order (when it comes to their house, at least!). There's no taming of the wild beast into a vision of manicured perfection here - the garden runs riot at this time of year and I love scrutinising hidden corners for crumbling brickwork, spider webs and lichen. Somehow the lack of order makes the place even more relaxing to visit, as if it's fine to just kick back and let mother nature do her thing.

I've always been fascinated by the idea of buried treasure and growing up in the countryside made finding it a likely possibility. If a young lady knew where to look (and wasn't afraid to get her hands and dress dirty) she could dig up all sorts of wonderful things that ordinary people might just walk past: rusty horseshoes hiding under feet of claggy soil, stones containing sparkling crystal veins just waiting to be washed off and appreciated. While others were playing top trumps or watching cartoons I was treasure hunting. As I've grown older the fascination has never left me and I've found myself becoming increasingly drawn to the tiny details others might miss, to strange textures and things hiding under other things. Yes, I might get some strange looks when I'm in a tourist spot and appear to be taking photos of a drain or a blank wall, but I want to make other people aware of the little, beautiful details they might miss. I want to show off my treasure!

I love the mix of textures here - the cold, regimented order of the wire against the fragile leaves and bright, spongey moss. I also like that while the wire mesh might appear to be dominant it's actually been pushed out by the leaves, presumably when they were wet and weighty. I'm sure there's some deep artistic message here about strength in frailty or imprisonment or somesuch, but I prefer simply to think of it as a beautiful, contradictory mess. I've no doubt I'll be using this idea of 'imprisoned textures' in some of my upcoming work.

I use to look at tree bark a lot as a child. I desperately still wanted to believe in fairies, Borrowers and suchlike and the undulating, craggy patterns trees created seemed like the perfect miniature landscapes for such creatures to explore. Deep knotholes or gaps under flaked bark would be the ideal place for a pixie to store gold or hide from the rain, no? While I'm not a massive fan of 'fairy art' I'll definitely be exploring the idea of little treasures saved in strange natural places, glinting out at the viewer. I like to look for the unexpected (and I like it even more when I find it!).

I suspect I may also get a copy of this photo printed for my wall - the colours make my eyes happy.

Back at my house the colours and textures are a tad more urban but no less fascinating. Abandoned cobwebs make the edge of this picture seem to fizz (when I come to recreating this effect I wonder if I should make some fake webs or steal the real deal? Would the spiders mind?) and even though my logical brain tells me the bubbles in the concrete are due to sh*tty council budgets and poor workmanship my artistic side tells me that they're beautiful. The whole image makes me think of some strange lunar landscape and I want to explore it.

Again, as is becoming a bit of a theme with the images I like, there's something of a contradiction going on. The concrete is sturdy, hard, long-lasting and unyielding and yet the frail, whispy cobwebs and strands of dried grass are slowly taking over. A decent gust of wind would blow them all away, but if left undisturbed for long enough they'd cover the concrete so completely that you'd never know it was there. This pleases me.

Ooh, god, I love old paint. Look at this beauty, found on my DIY shed door! Much, much nicer than a boring properly undercoated paint job.

In terms of practical application I've not quite figured out yet how to mimic this effect with acrylics. I believe a heat lamp may be required? Hmmm... Must do more research. Either way I can't wait to figure it out, then cruelly paint over some pretty wallpaper and allow the effect to work its magic. Again, it's all about reveal things that were once hidden - just a glint of a rich jewel colour or a swirl of pattern under all that white would be gorgeous. I might even attempt it with multiple, different-coloured coats of paint to create the sort of thing you see when stripping decades of old paints and wallpaper from the wall of an old house. That sort of hidden history has always made me very sad that I have yet to buy an old victorian house. But one day... ohhhh yes...

Out in the garden I found this old root from a supposedly dead pot plant, sitting on a rusty BBQ grill (I'm not the most houseproud of people). Again, I like the contradiction, but more than that I want to recreate that strange, writhing look of the root. Fabric wrapped in thread, perhaps? Wire? Plaster of paris?

I'd also like to try using a lot of found objects in my art - bits of driftwood, strange roots, seed pods... whatever I can lay my hands on. The question is, would it ruin these objects to cover them in paint? Perhaps it would enhance them? I'm seeing dull, dirt-encrusted roots wrapped in delicate strands of glass beads or lace. Ooh, this could be fun.

Again, roots on leaves and pebbles (my gardening attempts always start with such good intentions...). I must remember to collect some dried leaves when Autumn hits - they could be beautiful slathered in metallic paint or candle wax.

Where do you even get pebbles from these days? I'm sure most places would get a bit narky if I started nicking their decoration. Perhaps parks and beaches would be best - what better excuse for a day at the seaside? :) I'll also pop out into the farmer's field adjoining my parents' house, that place was always a treasure trove of pretty wonders when I was rock collecting as a child.

Yeah, I collected rocks. What of it?

Other things to add to my mixed medium bag of goodies? Hmmm... sand? Grit? Cocoons? Would using a dead butterfly be too morbid? Are dried flowers too old lady-ish? Sod the rules, I'm just going to play around and see what happens. When I produce a canvas entirely covered with dead spiders feel free to tell me I've lost it.

So, that's it so far. I started messing around with a few little canvases yesterday, trying out some techniques with glue, tissue and gesso (which I fear is too thin for anything properly sculptural). Photos of the work in progress soon but for now I'm off out to the park to see what bits of stuff I can pilfer, and to take some more photos. I found some beautiful black, charcoal grey and metallic white floral wallpaper yesterday too, which I'm hoping to hang in my office tomorrow. How's that for productive?! I'll no doubt end up putting it off until next week but hey, at least I've bought the stuff. That's a step forward, right?

Have a lovely day and I'll report back soon!

Em x