'Kaleidoscope' Acrylic and Recycled Water Bottle Butterflies on Canvas (Photo credits: Clare Bosman) The collective noun for butterflies; kaleidoscope, which seemed appropriate for the light reflections off the various facets of the plastic water bottle butterflies. An abstract painting study, where I sculptures the canvas with white paint to reinforce the dynamic flow of the colours on the butterflies. Terry, my guiding hand home after an A1 dinner
Thrilled that my 'Lotus', Acrylic and recycled water bottle butterfly painting, has been Shortlisted for the 2021 Innibos National Craft Award. Entries in all disciplines, from grass-weaving and ceramics to beadwork, wirework, wood, jewellery, paper, fabric painting and printing, quilting, leatherwork, pewter, glasswork, embroidery and mixed media were invited. Small cheetah painting. ‘Woes’ Acrylic on canvas 20cmx20cm Not very clever trashing my iPad by dropping it down the
Afghanistan, an Artists View Paintings from my years in Afghanistan on Mission with the United Nations. High tea for birthday celebrations on the lacy tablecloth my Mum had from her travels to Nottingham, where her Grandfather was a lacemaker. Perhaps, the bubbles not quite high-tea. Sunrise run getting earlier, if not warmer, as spring rushes in. With the clivia’s in the studio parking garden starting to
Hints of Spring, and touches of France in my Mum’s garden. Japanese Peony roots added to pots in the Studio garden. The small purple Iris planting in the patio pots. Between the storms, sunrise runs while the full moon shines across the water. My radical haircut making no noticeable difference! Birthday challenge. Co-ordinates to an undisclosed location that had Google Maps flummoxed. Fortunately, the case
Thrilled that my Wearable Art silk scarves were chosen by the Ambassador from Bangladesh as gifts for the Bangladeshi Foreign Minister and his delegation on his visit to South Africa. Cold wind making life a tad unpleasant out on my run. The hills demanding, particularly with my wayward blood sugars. Found a tick munching my leg. Could be interesting. Winter weather perfect for a fondu
Painting of Central Park received a ‘Special Recognition Award’ for Outstanding Art at the 11th Annual International Open Exhibition. Selected from 879 entries. Managed to bruise my bum falling over my feet. Seriously painful. Made for an interesting right-side, left-side dilemma between COVID jab tenderness, bum and my still unhappy shoulder. Terry did a delicious Dog Mom’s, post Covid isolation lunch. Starter: chèvre wrapped
Oil on canvas, Line Art, painting with my finger painting technique challenging. My latest interpretation using my fingers to form ridges of white paint, creating lines on a white background. Light, the only differentiating factor. Stunning days after the storms, made for picnic’s, braai’s, beach walks, trail runs, forest rides and Border Collie mayhem. Fires at night to push back the winter chill monsters
To celebrate Bastille Day and surviving the Tour de France, Keto Gougères (cheese balls). A tad fiddly to make, but moreish! Concept pieces looking at different aspects of Line Art to create Abstract Paintings. While much of Line Art is around the ‘flow’ of lines, without interruption and using the thickness of the line to add depth or weight to the composition. Yayoi Kusama
Finished my painting of Spring in Central Park. ‘Don’t hide from the storm, but learn to dance in the rain’, seems even more poignant at this time of unease and craziness. Forest Marathon weekend. Under COVID Lockdown, there was still a vibrancy in the air with runners spread through the town and Forest. Weather stunning, for beach walks, if chilly, before the storms roar
A painting I did in Afghanistan, of boys walking down the street outside our house. (Street 5, House No 77, Apartment 2, Ansari Watte, Shari-e-Now District) ‘Kabul Balloons’, oil on canvas board 36cmx46cm received a Special Recognition for ‘Outstanding Art’, at the ‘555’ Special Art Exhibition. Selected from 1,437 entries from 31 different countries. The towers in my painting of Central Park, are the