- improve your efficiency,
- organise your memories,
- process the day,
- solve problems,
- and make better decisions.
- A caffeine curfew at noon. (Caffeine lasts 8 hours in your body),
- Exercising in the morning is the best time to exercise,
- Avoiding blue light from your screens and device by having a screen time curfew, where your not looking a screen 20-60 minutes before bed. Other helpful, useful technology tips include using the Flux app or Apple devices with night shift built in to reduce blue lights before bedtime.
- To prevent feeling exhausted establish an evening bedtime sleep ritual, where the bedroom isn’t an entertainment hub. Taking a bath or reading light fiction helps me to create a sleep sanctuary, giving your mind time to unwind.
I am enthusiastic to tell you about my new exhibition next month.
I want to connect with bigger things than my art or myself and I have decided I want to help in situations where there can be a difference between life and death. The local regional Air Ambulances mission is to provide a rapid response to trauma and medical emergencies and is vitally important. I want to do my bit by supporting the local Air Ambulance charity. To this end l have decided to give 50% of the sales from my next art exhibition in April to the charity.
The local regional air ambulance fly two helicopters across the counties of Warwickshire, Northamptonshire, Derbyshire, Leicestershire and Rutland covering 3850 square miles of the UK. They provide a vital part of the health service, with an average response time of 13 minutes, they attend on average 6 missions a day. The Air Ambulance Service is one of only two totally independent air rescue providers in the UK and they receive no government finding. They are entirely funded through the generosity of members of the public and corporate sponsors and I want to help too.
I hope that by raising funds for the charity through selling my paintings, I can bring even more meaning to life through my Art. Every £5 raised could pay for pressure dressings to control a patients bleeding. Every £10 raised could pay for enough fuel to fly 11 miles towards the nearest major trauma centre. Every £20 raised could pay for defibrillator pads to use when a patient suffers cardiac arrest, without which the defibrillator wouldn’t work. Every £36 could pay for Celox, a type of gauze that, in the case of major haemorrhages can help stop bleeding by helping blood clots to form. Every £60 raised could pay for straps to safely secure patients before and during their flight, allowing the crew to focus on treatment.
Please join me from 18th – 26th April 2018 at Floor 1 Gallery, Rugby Art Gallery & Museum, Little Elborow Street, Rugby, CV21 3BZ from 10am – 5pm, Monday to Saturday and Sunday from 10am til 4pm.
Thank you for your support, I look forward to seeing you there.
With consumerism at the forefront of western society and seen as the purpose of life, we live to work, to earn and to consume, this is a significant part of our lives. However, I find myself drawn to expressing an alternative view of life through my art. Why do I paint..? I want to communicate what I see.
Although many people see painting as being based on traditional values and having a limitation to address contemporary issues, I believe that painting offers the challenge of finding new meanings. I see it as a way to create new insight and uniquely capture people’s imagination. Some people might see this view of painting as naive, that nothing is truly original anymore in this postmodern society.
But for me, other forms of communication don’t compare with the excitement of art. They don’t come close to allowing me the opportunity to look in detail at the interesting and unexplained things l see about me in this world of ours. I am interested in the position that a painter has in relation to the world. I discover things through painting. When I paint, I am looking at the history of art, the present and the future by painting myself and the world.
Through painting, I have a chance to investigate something that is evasive. I continually have to ask myself what it is that I see. I try hard to identify what it is, as it continuously slips. I never get a chance to see what it would be like if l did something else while painting because, what I love about painting is that you can’t undo the last mark. It is utterly instinctive, for me this makes the process of painting is addictive. I’m always hoping for improvement, but realising that grasping a frightening clarity by showing my true soul and that of the world is unattainable. But I keep coming back to try again. The question nearly always arises; do I risk spoiling it by continuing or do I start a new painting? I am a risk taker and painting suits my way of working and what I want to communicate. I love taking risks as l try to unlock the world about me.
I have a deep down urge to try to master a form of expression where I can communicate my unique view, where I am part of the painting. When I feel this, I feel like I am doing what I am here for. I get deep joy and despair, anxiety and confidence. I feel more alive.
This painting titled ‘A pocket full of dreams’. Take a moment to stop and think what this painting says to you. Pull back the curtain, to consider what it means to be human. In my view, people rely too much on words.
One of the lessons and obstacles I have learnt to deal with is being a perfectionist. Over the years I have visited many galleries and museums and enjoyed looking at other artists work. I use to look at other artists work and compare my work to theirs. But l now realise that looking at other artists work and comparing mine to theirs is counterproductive.
Instead of being helpful the visits made me focus on my insecurities as an artist. I would ask myself; Am l talented? Is my work good enough? And, what if no-one likes my work? I was creating an impossible mindset to overcome. These thoughts were very destructive. However, I slowly came to realise I need to accept what I do and who I am by making my studio free of judgement.
Self-judgement is a learned behaviour that comes from living in our type of society. By comparing my work to someone else’s, I not only noticed that my work was not perfect, by someone else’s standards, I observed that l had changed my standards. These thoughts made me confused as to who I was making the work for; an audience or myself.
By thinking my work was not good enough against someone else’s standards, it was impossible to be playful and enjoy what I was doing. Without the freedom to play and take risks, my work had become stifled and dull.
To be an artist, I realised I need a lot of self-belief. I needed to bring excellence to every I do. By measuring myself against myself, rather than against others l came to realise that art is not like sport, it is not competitive; it is subjective. I needed to reassess what I see as good enough.
I now know that when I go to a gallery, it is useful to compare my thoughts and processes to other artist’s but not their output. I realised that if I wanted to make successful artwork, I had to find a way through experimentation, trying things out and playing to improve what I have already created. Once I realised this, I was able to show up at the studio with a different intent. An intent to be present in the task and make better work than I did yesterday. From that point on I couldn’t help feeling good about my output and about myself.
The question, ‘What is success to me?’ has made me think a lot about why I have chosen to be an artist and what I want to achieve. Every artist has a different view of success, and what it means to them. Success may include; enjoying the process, the blood, sweat and tears invested in the work, attainment of exhibition space, residencies, peer recognition or column inches and often it can be seen as material and personal gain. However you are putting a lot of pressure on yourself if your measure of success is to have all of this.
The Guardian wrote an interesting article titled ‘Can you make a living as an artist?’ and is worth a read. https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2012/jul/29/artists-day-job-feature?CMP=Share_iOSApp_Other
Rose Wylie was born in 1934 in Kent. She studied in Folkestone and Dover School of Art and at the Royal College of Art. After completing her MA at the age of 47, she started her career and since then has spent most of her time in the art world wilderness. In the last few years however, Rose’s career has taken off, and she is receiving deserved recognition. She has won the Charles Wollaston 2011 and the John Moores 2014 prizes and has her latest show at the Serpentine in the Sackler Gallery.
Rose Wylie’s work is a perfect case study in the importance of creative freedom. The title of the show ‘Quack Quack’ draws attention to her unique down to earth and unpretentious view of the world. In today’s world of the internet where naive first steps are often written about, filmed or photographed; Rose’s paintings are fresh and free from expectations. Her time in the art world wilderness away from a critical audience has allowed her work time to mature. Although Rose has always wanted her work to be accepted, she clearly has made no changes to meet public expectations or dogmas. Now the public has to take her and her work as they find her, trainers and all, and this I found it a refreshing change.
During the extended period of being unacknowledged, Rose has gained in confidence and learnt to rely on herself. She takes an idea straight from a drawing in her sketchbook, which is a definite extension of her life, and repeats on to the un-stretched canvas. Her actions whether they are rough pencil outlines, or the accidental drips and spills become part of the work. The work is understandably a daily challenge where her surprise enhances the process. If an area becomes bogged down or not to her liking, in a natural, carefree way, she cuts the section out of the canvas and sticks a new piece on top. There is no set of shared doctrines or beliefs. Her thoughts and ideas are distinctly spontaneous and instinctive. I’m sure the make do and mend approach comes from living through World War 2.
When Rose discussed her working practices in a recent BBC podcast, she said, “Working on the floor was less big boy art, big boy art is done on an easel. [Working on the floor] is a nice idea that is close to housework, what women do in a sense. You find yourself clearing things up of the floor, that is what painting is like. It is not work, it is not painting. It is something you do, but it is not painting. I’m not really a painter, as my canvases are not stretched.”
This plain-spoken and unsentimental approach to making art benefits Rose’s work as she is not overly concerned about the importance of her own personal role. Rose sees things differently and wants to communicate her feeling and sensibilities in a carefree way. She uses all her perceptions, not just her sight. Her paintings are rebellious, instinctual and organic. The process is as simple as one idea comes from another, creating a vibrant visual language with painted text and sketches from art history, tv, sport, magazines and movies.
In today’s art market it is refreshing to see an artist’s work that challenges society’s sensibilities. In comparing her painting processes to housework, Rose highlights how studio processes are just a vehicle to get an idea across. The references and potential narratives in her work aren’t relevant. Rose holds on to what is necessary to her. She allows a concept to exist, to show others how to break down the constraints and to be free.
Her results show the benefits of not fearing disapproval or of offending others. We all have the right to get our interpretations of the world out there. Rose comprehensibly shows that fulfillment in her practice is much more important than fear of achievement. Her work promotes and defends artistic freedom and the freedom of expression.
Little has changed for Rose since her work has started selling, apart from she is unable to work on the floor since her hip replacement and the canvases aren’t stacked to the ceiling anymore. Rose has no constraints; she doesn’t try to anticipate what will come. To me, her work embodies true freedom. She has learnt not to be concerned about what other people think. She allows her work to exist without feeling the need to justify it.