Sunday, March 9
Monday, September 2
Friday, August 23
Wednesday, August 14
Wednesday, July 31
Thursday, July 25
Tuesday, July 23
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
Monday, July 15
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.
Friday, July 12
Thursday, July 11
Pool Rooms
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
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.