Wednesday, August 14

Friday, July 19

Contact information

The email address I have provided no longer works. So any emails that have been sent to me will go unread. If you would like to get in touch with me about commissions, email: fionalewisart@hotmail.com

Saturday, July 13

Re-making old, forgotten work

I'm going to experiment with lots of ink and water colour for the sky. One of the drawings reminds me of a dream I had when I was a child.

It was night time in the dream and there was this house with a trap door at the side. I went through the trap door and slid down into a very elaborate mansion with chandeliers and dark wooden staircases.  Some people were having a party. I didn't stay in the main part of the building. I went through another door and slid down some beige stairs that smelt like new carpet. It was like a show-home smell. There was no room at the bottom of the stairs, just a load of sofas piled up everywhere.  Thats when I found myself stuck amongst all these grey-blue sofas. It was really strange. I don't remember anything after that.

Thursday, July 11

New work



Pool Rooms

She had skin that looked as if she were suffering from shock. A knuckle clench around her cage forced a sigh and kept her swinging in place. 'GOD, I'm so nervous. It feels like someone's hanging me over the edge of a building.'

The ground was plastered in monotonous grey-blue shapes that smelt funny. The motion had felt like one from a film. Lashings of dark pine strips had flown past, slowed down, re-connected with the blue then sank into some kind of awful pit somewhere miles away.

You could smell it in the air, the scarlet tone seeped quickly into tiny cracks in the pavement. Everyone kind of passed by pretty quickly after that, like it happened four years ago, and no-one took a second glance other than the architects.

They built swimming pools throughout every room on every floor of the building, and trapped in the swarm clouds by bolting up every door. Windows were left out of the design. Walls were padded with an itchy, navy material that should have been used on the floor.

She hated the fact they couldn't hear her, and everything was buried under a heavy maze of shallow water. She repeated same songs in her head, she kept convincing herself. And she kept her eyes shut tight when she realised over and over that she was fenced in and plastered in rubble.

Their heads lined up in a row, blank statements of what now swamped the pool rooms. It escalated beyond anything anyone could ever imagine. Crushed up plastic beds lay miserable and used up over a canopy of webs.

She looked up and smiled. Underneath the brim of the water, under all that ferociousness, eyes flickered around untangled. It was so clean. She forced herself up and felt the cellophane wrap up around her lungs and lurch her back down underground.

Saturday, April 23

good summer evening

GOOD EVENING!

I have abandoned my blog for a long long time. I've been dealing with a bit of this:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Takotsubo_cardiomyopathy

But I'm made of steal and I'm back to make some art.

Tuesday, March 22

We Are Nowhere And It Is Now - Tachycardia

I think I need to get some photos of the actual drawings a bit closer up. But the piece works as a whole and it's better to view it in person so you can walk around and make random links in your head from one panel to the next.