Art attack

I love art. I love looking at it. I love practicing it.
Portraits of the human form are my favourite. I could spend hours in the many spectacular galleries we British have access too. Off to London in two weeks and can not wait to lose myself in the many galleries littered around the city. Some of my favourite paintings have been hung at the Saatchi Museum. You can always be sure to find the odd glorious naked body hung from the walls of this most exhibitionist of exhibitions. Large, brash, honest portraits - colourful yet grey, mobid yet enlightening.
I am also passionate about the old masters, portraits from the Tudor period enthrall me. The regal stares of the old monarchs leave me spell-bound. The genius of the artists' hand laid bare for all to see is entirely exhilarating. Milky skin almost impossibly translucent, rich indulgent clothing and garments painted with such precision. Distortions of size demonstrating the artists' spin. Regal PR at a time before Ab Fab.

Just in the last couple of weeks I have been attacked by a irrepressible desire to draw and paint again (it happens occasionally). I have managed some sketches with charcoal. Next I want to tackle a large naked print of my own. Watch this space!