The roaring forties

49 years… How was it…

The Museum was brimming with ideas, so lactic and full of full of acid, you’d be excused for believing they’re on crack. Swirling around every bend, sits mug after mug of rich, choco-latte goodness, so pimped up, you’ll be scanning the trophy cabinet for another reading from Willy Wonka. A confession from the bar… We ain’t no Saint! This is a once in a lifetime gig, ‘stick it in yer cup and rotate’, (said the spoon to the hand)… there’s a reading at twelve and it’s about to strike. March on… K

Through shadow and line, we explore what it means

Might be my birthday tomorrow hehe

The forties were great.

Colour and light from the Chocolate Museum in Bruges really caught my eye. This is my kind of vibe.

Curves and angles interweave 

The art of telling a story

The art of finding connection

Sometimes we start with a sketch

Through travel, through words, through photos, and more, we’re evolving. Art is a beautiful love.

A beautiful kind of Lost

In this place I’ve found…

(The Aurora of Milford Sound)

(The spirit of the sea)

(Travelling puts everything into perspective)

(Falling water, tumbling over rock)

Sun, sea, sky, air, light, sound, feel, touch, taste

Air

I close my eyes

And I’m right there

Every time

…A beautiful kind

of Lost

KF

Highlights & Light…

A quiet stroll

Footing it down the road, let’s dive on in…

 We’ll start with a wee drop of dew thanks, and a slug of Red, don’t hold back! Over in a frame sits a portrait so shocking, peeps from all over town are drawn in by its magnitude. A window of opportunity arises for the punters at the bar… Pull out your chair, stand up and take a bow, encore.

Second course in and it’s a delicious mess, thought up by the chef next door - with a roll on the side, hold the frites! Another word salad delivers, and the full table buckles under the weight. Sweet… we smile, as we poke another wedge in… Lemon Meringue - it sure is tangy.

Walking down the cobbles - a stone.

Mind the step

KF

It’s such a happy medium

We’ve just spent the afternoon at The Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. What a beautiful and brilliant legacy he has left behind. What I take away from this, along with all the colour and texture, is the importance of a good sketch.

A Fairy long tale

We’re back in Dublin, with a tour around The Epic this morning… a really great interactive museum. What I find most interesting here are the stories, and the architecture, the lighting here, and their play on words. It’s unlike anything else I’ve seen in Ireland… it’s young and fresh.

We like it but it needs something else…

…ahhh that’s it, a splash of blue

Our recent artworks have been an experiment, and an experience. What is art, and where is it, are still questions in my mind. Are we the art behind, or the painting on the wall?

Does it even matter anyway?

Where’s ya bean… I hope to say everywhere.

Jack and The beans… torque is a high speed exchange of words. Part fairytale, part fiction. To me, it’s a river. A word splat, spat out, on page. It’s a flow on, not a destination.

We measure not what we’ve done, but where we’re at.

Stripping a painting back to its bare bones brings a new depth and understanding. It brings peace.

The start.

The Clowns Shoo

‘Not long to go now’ he says, walking just behind as we walk up the steep track. “I thought today was all flat” … (my mind escapes the short incline ahead)

‘It is, just over the hill and it’s all flat from there’

“Ok” (one step in front of the other)

‘Karina, WATCH OUT!’

…

“Fk”

…

As I slipped off the side of the track, I knew I’d done some damage to my leg. Still, we had 13kms to go and the shuttle was picking us up from the car park. We had to keep going, one step at a time, we walked out.

I lost the track that day.

And I lost a lot of fear too.

Resilience maybe, kept me going.

Or the thought of a hot shower and home.

As we get seated, one glance around this bar has me staring in amazement, shaking my head, eyes wide and gasping, while awaiting a throw in from the crowd. Much amusement is had in here as we park our arse down and receive our prize. First a pretzel, then a snap, a crackle and finally, a pop, here goes… followed by a glass of guess who and a game of drafts, bring the cheque. Back at the fear ground, honesty is the main attraction here, as we’re shunted along like logs in a drain. If the shoe fits…

KF

How is it that I came back from this walk to paint a landscape interpretation and end up painting a clowns shoe?

Some things we’ll never understand.

How many are you.

There.

The wild Humpridge Track, New Zealand 

Catching the wind

Spreading thin off the chin… this starter gets in your teeth and unzips your gob faster than you can say eye, eye, I like me a little filling from time to time. Raising up another ‘whaddawe ave here then’ ? … rapidly deleting the browser while playing ‘Don’t blink’ … or think - I stare you, and raise you another. What a ball we’re having here… somewhere between nostril and ear, we fold. Going another round of the hard stuff… pop the cork…

All in all it’s just

An, Eye ball, In the wall

Absinthe of time

An, What is a face, After all…

We’re ticking through time, absorbing everything greedily as we run through London. I always felt I’d missed out on something not coming here before… not no more.

Saw a punk in Camden Town

Sitting on the wall

He had a ten foot Mohawk

A sail on a ball

A colourful arrangement

The crowds, they stop and look

If we were in a library

Then he would be a book

And over at the station

A guy raps for his tea

Maybe for his coffee

We’ll that is what we see

And as we walk away

His words, they start to fade

We’re walking over tiles

That other voices made

KF

The Flame in Sea

Bye Bye Maisy, Rest in Peace x

You lived your best lives… You were Awesome x

Revisiting this piece, not as a complete painting, but as a concept. We painted this in a frenzy, at speed and at will. It’s had its moment. Whatever inspires a moment is a personal journey. Not all of them end up gracing the wall.

Contemplating… What’s it all about?

Moving on…

A slice of life

The Lady at the Table

Approached from afar

Right up to our side

Her pocket a jar

She holds out her hand

And gestures to come

I notice a bruise

On the nail of her thumb

It’s bread that she wants

Not some kind of dough

We’ve all earned a crust

We really don’t know

Our eyes catch a gaze

The waiter he shrugs

We give from our plates

To drink out of mugs

She leaves

She is able

We wish we had one

A moat…

That is…

Surrounding the table

But giving aside

It feels good to share

We hope in return

She knows that we care

The lady 

In bread

Keeps moving all night

Right into her mind

A toast to the light

KF

An experience on the road

And a deeper understanding

A new Star… t

Stars in their eyes

Today I’ll be K

Guided along

Constellation Way

Our lucky stars

It’s you I thank

They call me out

You let me be Frank

KF

Currently in Morocco

A new Star… t

Is evolving

We’re not one for the spotlight… instead we prefer our artwork to do all the talking. A reflection of life’s colourful journey, without the pressures of expectation or judgement.

Like a feather in the wind… we glide.

These are a few of…

My Favourite Things

So we’re on the subway in Shanghai, riding back from visiting Qibao, on the bank of a canal and it’s awesome. It feels familiar… way safer than the Chicago red line and a bigger version of Singapore. People get on and off at every stop… someone stands up and someone rushes to sit down in their place. All day and everyday and everywhere this happens and my mind ponders.

The reason I started painting in the first place was to see the world. It got me a few places but not as far as this. So we changed tact, and here we are on this train…

A guy gets on, he does his hair in the reflection of the door. Pops a contact lens in without batting an eyelid, and proceeds to spot cream all over the pimples on his face, preens his hair again then flings his head back and runs eye drops in his eyes like they’re taking a shot. Random.

In the mall someone’s shaving their nose hairs on a seat, and down the road another gobber is hoiking in the garden. This is what we came for… well not that lol but everything else.

Inspiration on steroids!

Had we not changed tact… I’d still be painting in the garage by myself, dreaming of exploring the world.  And I’m glad we’re not still there. As our travels evolve, so does our art. I guess you could say it’s living inside right now.

Until we pick up that paintbrush again, and we will. I know one thing for sure… it’ll feel even better than before.

Have a happy holidays… live and love x K