Thursday, March 31, 2016
Monday, March 28, 2016
Sunday, March 27, 2016
Saturday, March 26, 2016
Thursday, March 24, 2016
Monday, March 21, 2016
This is the finished portrait of Peter Urquhart with his father.
Pete is a fantastic musician, whose love of music was shared and inspired by his dad, who sadly died recently after a long battle with illness.
This is getting closer to being finished, earlier versions are below
This is the underpainting half complete - it won't be quite so pink later, I just love what it does under blues
Sunday, March 20, 2016
Saturday, March 19, 2016
Friday, March 18, 2016
Thursday, March 17, 2016
Looking up Macquarie street. Above - blue sky, beneath, Martian pink.
The work below was all painted on site, but yesterday I worked a bit from photos at home because of time pressures, but I hope I can get back out on location to finish it before Art Show opens next Thursday
King Ed baulks at charging the city
Sunday, March 13, 2016
Due to popular demand etc etc(not a bad thing) - here are a pair of cockatoos and water dragon to add to those I painted earlier
Woolloomooloo cockatoos. Here's another in Newcastle(Warabrook)
Friday, March 11, 2016
Thursday, March 10, 2016
Cockatoos eating - A painting I started last night
I know a few people who have been domesticated by sulphur crested cockatoos, so there's plenty of opportunity to do a few more
These are in Woolloomooloo, here's another in Newcastle
A cockatoo on a mophead eating a ritz cracker. Pigeons are underneath picking up the crumbs.
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
I'm going to paint a portrait of Peter Urquhart's father, much loved and sadly recently deceased. He loved music and inspired Pete to love it as well.
This shows them together, a sketch from a facebook photo, not great as the likenesses maybe, and the hand arm hand violin thing at centre is a bit clunky, but it's a bit of an idea
Friday, March 4, 2016
In the crowd today in Woolloomooloo waiting for some fruit and veg from Oz Harvest. An old Asian guy was holding court with some friends. One of them saw me drawing him and brought him over.
"My name is Willy - W-I-L-L-Y. You can write that with a full stop. I'm 85 years old. I'm going to die." He says this with a flourish.
Not too soon I hope. He's still got some life in him. I tell him to enjoy his time. I'll give him a copy next week