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Something Borrowed, Something (Mostly) Blue...

Sunset at the Beach by Adele Cosgrove-Bray; oil on canvas; 2019. I finished this oil painting just this afternoon. It's my largest painting to date; you can see it here, balanced tentatively on my wooden French box easel, which is marketed as being portable though it isn't really, not unless you're willing to carry an attache-case-size tonne weight which requires a master of origami to unfold its various extendable bits, and which is guaranteed to spill the entire contents of its storage drawers over the floor in the process. Light Approaches by Adele Cosgrove-Bray; watercolour; 2019. I've begun looking for an easel which is genuinely suited to painting outdoors. It needs to be light but not so light it'll blow over with the first breeze. It needs to be suitable for both oils and watercolours, i.e. it needs to be able to offer vertical, tilted and horizontal angles. It does not need to have integrated storage, as a bag is more useful anyway. Try fitting sa

Crash, Bang, Wallop!

High Tide by Adele Cosgrove-Bray; oil on canvas, 2019. We've had builders here, taking several weeks over a fairly big repair job. Having re-pointed both chimneys and replaced a couple of broken roof tiles, the next task was to re-point the brickwork on the front of our house. However, when the building company owner looked at the wall he advised us to bring in a structural engineer as he thought something more serious was going on. The engineer discovered that water had been coming in from the roof level and instead of flowing away down the gutter it had been pouring between the two layers of the wall, causing structural damage. Re-pointing would have merely hidden the problem in the short term. Life drawing, Feb. 2019. It was suspected that the weight of our modern PVCU double-glazed windows was too great for the walls which were built in 1897 for the Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee. Apparently this is a common problem with older houses. A trial pit was dug imm

Whatsername is Published

My short story, Whatsername , was published in Flash Fiction Magazine, and you can read it online  HERE . This 500-word monologue comes from a conversation I had while sitting on a bench in Birkenhead Park. A lady using a mobility scooter began chatting to me, and all the time she talked I was thinking "This would make a story..." And so it was done - and now you can read it online. You can also download a free ebook of flash fiction by various authors at that same URL.

Art Videos and Exhibitions

I hope you enjoy viewing this video slideshow of my art completed in 2018. There's a fair bit to see....  Here's another video for you, this time showing my sketches done on location in Birkenhead Park.   As I type this, I can hear loud clattering and clanging as workmen put together scaffolding outside the front of my house in readiness for some structural repairs to the bay window section. Apparently, modern double-glazed PVC windows are too heavy for this house's antique Victorian framework, and so some restructuring is called for, involving steel ties and so on. In December, the same building company re-pointed our chimneys and replaced some broken tiles. This will be a much bigger, more complex job, though. In all truth I'm not looking forward to the disruption, as workmen will have to be inside the house upstairs and down - a royal pain with two inquisitive dogs eager to "help" - but needs must; the job has to be done. That, or have the fro

Empty Shops and Arts Solutions

A corner of my art studio, December 2018. In my last post I mentioned the changing face of town and city centres, and how their empty spaces could be utilised in the future. This article looks at a Parisian community project in a disused hospital. While the building awaits demolition, it's attracting 1,000 visitors a day while it is being used for a cafe, a market, artisan studio space, pop-up shops, a garden and to house homeless people. In London, a former fire engine workshop awaiting development is temporarily housing a migration museum. Pop-up shops are great for the micro-businesses of artists and crafts-workers, (or "makers" as they're increasingly termed). Official definitions of micro-businesses vary in detail but most agree that they're owned by one person only, employ less than ten people, and have an annual turnover of less than £632,000. It might be fair, then, to classify a typical art or craft business, owned by one person who also is its o

Shrinking Towns and Strange Trips

Dance of the Storm Lords by Adele Cosgrove-Bray; watercolour; 2018. Currently on show at the Atkinson Gallery in Southport is a small exhibition by Wirral Society of Arts members, which I enjoyed viewing on Saturday in the company of my sister Evelyn. There was also a photography exhibition which fused together new and old images of Southport, which was fun to see how the town had changed, plus a music-themed art exhibition, and a very small makers' market in the foyer. We had lunch in one of Evelyn's favourite cafes, and she showed me a video of her new kitchen which looks fabulous - all pale and pristine. Then we ambled along Lord Street as we caught up on each other's news, and ended up sipping coffee somewhere; a lovely day. Heading for home on a very crowded train, I sat opposite a middle-aged man who was smashed off his skull on skunk weed, or so he informed everyone within earshot. He continually jabbered about him being in great danger as the train might cra

Waves and Ankles

Watercolour study by Adele Cosgrove-Bray on A5 Khadi paper; 2018. I've been studying the fabulous maritime paintings of Montague Dawson , not for his old-fashioned sailing ships but for his highly skilled methods of painting the ocean. He mostly painted in oils, whereas I find myself reaching for watercolours more and more, but when I spied a book filled with large colour plates of his work in my favourite labyrinthine bookshop in Southport, I couldn't resist buy it solely because of his depiction of waves. Getting water to look wet can be a challenge, I find - but then I always did like a challenge.... Watercolour study by Adele Cosgrove-Bray, on unknown paper; 2018. The study above was done in a small sketchpad without any manufacturer's brand name on it. It has a pale blue satin-like cover decorated with appliqued shells and beads, and its cream-toned paper has tiny gold flecks threaded through it - far too pretty to leave languishing in a scruffy basket cramme

Ghosts and Things Which go Bump in the Kitchen

Sailing Into the Light; Adele Cosgrove-Bray; watercolour, 2018 I do like a good, old-fashioned ghost story, with a solid plot and a strong atmosphere, and this week I've enjoyed two. The first was Pay the Ghost , a film starring Nicolas Cage, Sarah Wayne Callies and child actor Jack Fulton, who already has an impressive filmography despite his tender age. A quick scan of online reviews show this film earned lukewarm responses at best, but both Richard and I really enjoyed it - which only demonstrates, once again, how totally subjective reviews are anyway. With Pay the Ghost  you get the story of a father doggedly searching for his missing child. His research takes him into the realms of folklore and fictional magic. My other ghostly encounter this week came in the form of Cass Green 's novel, In A Cottage In A Wood. A tale set in a remote Cornish cottage in dense woodland, and a London party girl spooked by strange happenings - sure ingredients for an entertaining pag

Memory Lane with a Grumpy Woman.

The Dawn of Misty Dreams by Adele Cosgrove-Bray; watercolour; 2018. I've been thinking about the internet and how it's changed over time, and how my use of it has changed too. Around 17 years ago, purely out of curiosity, I took a Learn Direct course which promised to be an 'Introduction to the Internet'. I quickly became hooked on this strange new world where the creativity of total strangers provided a seemingly infinite variety of entertainment. Intrigued, I set out on a journey of exploration which not only made research for my novels easy but also brought me into the world of RPGs. I won't reveal which characters I played, or on which boards our games were played out. That would spoil the mystery - and mystery was all part of the fun. As a talented co-player, Tristan, once told me, "If I wanted reality, I'd go to my parish." We used message boards and linked LiveJournal blogs to these; role-played in Yahoo! IM till dawn broke. We created l