From a Pavilion in Barmouth,
From a week away staying in a caravan in Barmton Saturday 25th July.
Its the aged Victorian thing in places, in need of a coat of paint.
But skirting around it with lots of temporary colour.
Beautiful iron-work, circles and scrolls but very strong and unrepeatable - they've tried.
They've covered up the glass roof in the pavilion to give more atmosphere and they employ senior citizens to sing Elvis with tuneful gusto, very loud, with feeling but not feeling it.
The sea crashes against itself across the other side of the promenade as part of it bounces off the harbour wall.
But - what a studio
you could have people in to visit your work without even seeing them, whilst still working (or not)
Loads of pastel colours on the playgrounds mingling with rich Victorian glass mixtures, dark wood and grim stone, grey sea, harsh breeze.
One armed bandits, bold structural colours, holding the pretty baubles.
Playtime.
Being the first part of a four blog set up. All the sites will never be in a neat, finished state. Tree house is a more general and historical comment on my life.
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- martinhumphries.treehouse
- In this brace of blogs, I am trying to sum up the artistic goals I am aiming for. Maybe, more for myself rather than other people although I would like others to read it. I intend to use the sites as places to which I invite people, I dont expecr an immediate rash of people keen to pore over my life. I see it as a kind of glorified C.V. that will probably never get finished.
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Please feel free to say whatever you feel.
I would be more than happy if your comment turns into a longer statement than mine.
I feel it adds to the body of work and as yet you are one of a small nuber of people who read this anyway!