The Humbling Seagull

"Seagull on Rooftop"
2.5 x 3.5 inches
watercolour
SOLD

Seagulls don't rank high on people's list of favourite birds; in fact they're right up there with the 'flying rats', pigeons, which are so numerous in city where I live. However, I have a weak spot for them (and all animals, including the 'flying rats'), and appreciate their strong, clean beauty.

I live in an apartment building on the fifth floor. It's not all that high, but it's high enough that you participate in the lives of birds more than you do in what goes on on the street at pedestrian level. I look out over the treetops and rooftops, and sometimes birds, especially gulls, come flying right past our windows in a white flash, which is always an impressive site.

A peculiar characteristic of gulls is that they always seek out the highest point possible to sit and observe what's going on below. It's the curse of many a statue. Often you'll see some grand figure in bronze with his head totally besmirched by irreverent gulls who seem to take a delight in posthumously belittling a Man of Great Importance.

The air vents and chimneys on the apartment building beside ours are one of these high spots gulls like to frequent. It was a grey and damp day last weekend when I looked out the window and saw this radiant white gull, perched on a chimney against a backdrop of blue-green trees, feeling grander than the grandest man immortalized in bronze.

Gulls do have a way of keeping one humble even in life. Around six years ago my sister and I were walking on the seaside boulevard in Scheveningen, which, on sunny days, is teeming with people. We were walking along enjoying the sun, when something that felt like a hot, wet bomb landed on my head. I grabbed at it, then looked at my fingers, which were covered in fresh, sticky bird poo. What a mess in my hair! Why me, when there were thousands of others he could have bombarded? Was it a message?

Time to read Johnathan Seagull, perhaps...

Unfortunately watercolour is a very tricky medium to scan well, especially lighter shades, which disappear altogether. In the scan of the little painting above the grey of the gulls wing is all washed out, as is the violet-blue shadow on his breast.

Hydrangeas

"Hydrangeas"
2.5 x 3.5 inches
watercolour
For sale

Last Saturday I went to the market to buy flowers. The market in is large and crowded, and after about 10:30 am, when the Saturday shopping crowd has made it out of their beds, I don't enjoy shopping there anymore.

I was at the market early last Saturday, and I wandered from stand to stand to see which was offering the best deal on flowers. Gladioluses, roses, gerberas, lilies, hydrangeas and all shapes and colours of flowers make it hard to choose. They all have their own beauty and they all call "take me home, take me home."

Hydrangeas are in season right now, and being the penny-pinching Dutchwoman I am, the fact that you can stop giving them water after a week and dry them, so that they last much longer than any other flower, convinced me to buy them. They've been giving me joy ever since, and they'll be the inspiration for many little paintings to come...


"Wine and flowers"
2.5 x 3.5 inches
watercolour
SOLD

My Favorite Model

"Artistic Muse"
2.5 x 3.5 inches
watercolour
Sold


Meet my favorite model. She's able to hold long poses without moving at all. She never complains about being cold, she doesn't object to any setting, she never gets bored or hungry, and probably best of all, she's cheap.

I met Mary (that's what I'll call her today; I give her different names on different days, depending on my mood) one day while I was walking through my old neighbourhood in the Hague. I had been looking for some time for a plaster cast to use as a model for drawings. There didn't seem to be too many around, though a museum in Haarlem I'd been to did have them. Not one was less than 100 euros, and this was simply too much for me, since it was to be strictly a utilitarian purchase.

So there I was, walking down a messy street where my art supply shop stood next to an all-day sports cafe, a parking garage, and further on a wine store, a shady dealer in goods that were never the same from week to week, and a small tanning salon. At the very end of that street was a dingy dealer in secondhand goods and so-called antiques, with a lot of copper and heavy glass vases. In the middle of this dark shop, where in the background a group of short, fat, ageless cigar-smoking men sat in aimless togetherness she stood like a pristine virgin, radiating her whiteness to the passersby. You might say there was 'something about Mary' that drew me into the shop, where I haggled her down to 15 euros, and got her in a dirty secondhand shopping bag.

Since that day Mary has led a life of luxury in my home. She poses from time to time, sometimes in larger paintings in oil, and sometimes for these tiny ones in watercolour. Last weekend I set her up in front of my modest art collection, which includes works by the now extremely popular painting-a-day painters Duane Keiser and Julian Merrow-Smith, as well as a print by wood engraver Andy English.

Starting off

This is my first post to my new blog. I'm going to start off quietly, modestly, and shyly - the way I am. And that's the way my little paintings are too. I'll be sharing them on this blog starting with the next posting. Tiny little paintings, modest, a little bit shy - they represent quiet corners in my home and surroundings, the unnoticed views. Shy and modest, and unaware of their humble beauty.