JuliaCrossland

I'm Moving On

noreply@blogger.com (Julia Crossland Art) — Tue, 16 May 2017 10:23:00 +0000

Hello.

The time has come to say goodbye to this dear space, which has housed me and my written thoughts for nine years now. As my work and life moves forward, I thought that it would be nice to create a fresh new blog space that would be much more relevant to what I am doing now.

I will still keep this space very much live, as it is a wonderful scrapbook of memories for me to look over and enjoy, and I hope you will too.

You are very welcome to come and follow my new blog here, I hope you will join me on my new journey!

Love, Julia xxx

What to Do When Creativity Won't Flow

noreply@blogger.com (Julia Crossland Art) — Fri, 31 Mar 2017 10:49:00 +0000

I was talking to an artist friend of mine yesterday, and she was telling me she felt a bit down. She was struggling to process the ideas she had in her mind successfully onto paper. It's not something that she normally finds difficult, she's a very accomplished and successful illustrator. She wondered whether her time was up, she'd had her turn at being a painter and that this was it, game over.

I've been there.

I know those feelings all too well - I have an idea and yet when I try to execute it onto paper, it doesn't happen. The paper is crumpled and thrown in the waste basket, I try again...to no avail. Now comes the sighing, the furrowing of the brow...a feeling of consternation and frustration.

The feelings of fear and despair settle quite quickly...what's going on? I can do this, why can't I do this?

I do believe creative people are highly sensitive souls, and we tend to panic if our creative ability is challenged - even when the challenge is created from within. We question whether that's it for us, our allocation of ideas has dried up, our capacity to translate the idea into a real piece of art is no longer doable. And it brings up so much stuff for us, our self worth, our esteem, and our confidence, it takes a knock - our failures are suddenly laid bare and that's hard to acknowledge. Inner critics laughingly mock our utter lack of competance, and we foolishly listen to their cackling little voices, which makes us feel worse of course.

I've come to understand over the years that there are several possible reasons why this happens.

We're simply tired/stressed/anxious: All of these emotions deplete the ability to connect properly with our inner flow, we cant concentrate properly and it's much harder to create when our minds and bodies are fuzzy with fatigue or overwrought by anxious thoughts.

Solution: Take a nap, get a few early nights, drink more water. Write in your journal, create a list of gratitudes, get out into nature, take a break. Whatever it takes to help you feel calmer, nourished, back on track. Be kind to yourself.

It's just one of those days: They happen, to all of us, no matter what our profession. We all have duff days where computers crash, cakes get burnt, paintings won't happen.

Solution: Leave it be. If you can, take some time away from what it is you're doing to go do something else. Read a novel, take a walk, see a friend. Do something that will disconnect you from what was going wrong, and come back to it with a fresh mindset later on.

It's a bit more than just a day...it's been happening for a while now...: I've experienced this and the first time it happened I really thought I'd lost the ability to create anything, ever again. I thought my livelihood as an artist was over. I felt depressed, I had anxiety over it. It was really, really hard to deal with.

Solution: Acceptance of this situation is the best step forward. I've had a couple of big blips during my working life as an artist where the ideas just wouldn't work out or simply, without warning, dried up. I could create nothing and had no interest in doing so either. And yes, it can feel scary to acknowledge that there might not be an end date to this, that you just have to ride it out, take care of yourself and be patient.

I spent much of the last time it happened writing in my journal and getting jobs done around the house. I addressed the fact I had previously worked really hard on getting a heap of paintings ready for an exhibition and was probably a little burnt out. I also came to understand that creativity can fluctuate like a season, we have prolific Spring times where we are in full flow, producing wonderful art and then we have our Winter times which are fallow and quiet, it's a time that has become essential to my creative practice - I need the quiet Winter in order to have the bountiful Spring. I find magazines and Pinterest are really good resources for firing up an empty soul during these times.

Mindfulness works well at times when we feel panicked or afraid, it brings us back into the present moment and takes us out of the bad movie we have on a constant loop running in our heads. Bring yourself back to the present over and over, it reminds you that what happened is in the past, and now is really all there is. It is a very grounding tool, and can help you move forward, rather than stagnating or dwelling on the negative.

Also - and this is important - don't expect too much of yourself. It's no good trying to force the art out - it doesn't work like that. Art has an energy, and how you feel resonates in what you do - people will be able to sense, like an invisible secret, whether you were on the ball, or not.

Oftentimes, it's just a couple of days you need to recallibrate, maybe sometimes a few weeks, and then you'll feel that unmistakable pull to create once again...

...then it's time to hit the ground running.

This Wild Land

noreply@blogger.com (Julia Crossland Art) — Wed, 22 Mar 2017 13:51:00 +0000

(Snow storm over the Holme Valley)

Yesterday saw the arrival of my birthday and some very wintery weather, which was a shock after last week where we enjoyed real warm sun for the first time in months and honestly thought Spring was, at last, here (we ought to have known better, we live up north and Spring never truly shows it's face properly until the end of April).

We had planned to go on a walk in the Holme Valley, which is about 25 minutes away from my home and despite the plummeting temperatures and random squalls of hail and snow, we decided to give it a go.

We wrapped up and donned our walking boots, a stark contrast to the t-shirt I was wearing up the moors last week!

It was only a short walk, about four miles thereabouts, but it took longer than we anticipated because most of the pathways had turned into streams following heavy rain.

Those huge Yorkshire skies, vast valleys and bleak hills were a balm to the soul.

And when we weren't leaping through water logged fields, we were in woodland discovering hidden waterfalls...

...and then, we were back out into the open...

When I walk, it gives me a space to empty my mind and really relax. I love being high up, away from the noise of the traffic with only the sky and the hills and the birds for company. This walk was particularly spectacular in that we could see the ever changing weather fronts barging in over the Peninnes at us. It was breathtaking!

I also find myself getting ideas for new work when I'm out in the elements so as well as keeping me fitter (which was one of my goals for this year) it is also proving to be the source of new inspiration.

Back in the studio...I'm busy working on a special commission for a private customer and this will take up the rest of March as it's quite a big one! I have plenty of new ideas on the back burner which I am going to look forward to getting busy with once it's finished, and I'm also looking forward to completing the Godrevy Lighthouse piece you might remember me sharing with you last time.

(a glimpse of the sea on the new Godrevy painting)

The effect of the acrylic paint on this gesso board is really lovely, I am very happy with the different, smoother texture that I'm getting, and the way the white of the gesso seems to shine through the paint.

I have also practised working in a looser style with the sea, and am pleased with how it's coming along, enjoying the difference of these fluid strokes in comparison to the more detailed flower pieces I've been doing.

Anyway, time for a quick cuppa and then back to it.

Enjoy your day, thanks for stopping by.

The Joy of Spring

noreply@blogger.com (Julia Crossland Art) — Thu, 16 Mar 2017 09:12:00 +0000

Hello Spring.

Yesterday felt like a gift. I have waited weeks for a day like that, one blessed with gentle sunshine and a warmth that kissed the skin, full of blue skies and sunlight, birdsong and a sense of new life blooming.

Buds were suddenly blossom where a few days before they had been tightly closed, birds flew overhead with twigs in their beaks with which to furnish their nests. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that when my jobs were done, I had to get out into that beautiful day and so after lunch, I pulled on my walking boots and headed up the hill.

I am very fortunate that I live right by the edge of the moors which are on the edge of the wild, windswept Pennines. It is easy for me to be in the countryside, and away from the sound of traffic in about five minutes flat.

I had a luxurious two hours before I had to do the school run, and it felt blissfully naughty to disappear on my own for a bit.

The sweeping views took my breath away...

Down in the valley, the water shimmered like a thousand diamonds in the sun.

Looking back down the lane as I headed up to the moorland...see those houses there on the left in the distance, my home is down in the valley just behind them.

At the top, by the Trig Point...the view is amazing, the feeling of space is wonderful. All I could hear was the sound of curlews and skylarks.

I stayed a while, marvelling at the scenery, then set off again down through the woods.

This is a lovely copse of trees, generously spaced with spongy grass underfoot. It feels a little magical there...

And then I was back onto the lane, looking down into our beautiful valley.

I was reluctant to go home, the feeling of the sun, warm on my arms (and warm enough to take off my jumper) was a revelation after months of being bundled up in thick coats and scarves. It seeped into my very soul and made me feel happy and connected to this wonderful planet. I had a sense of optimism, yes, Spring was well and truly coming.

Later that day I managed to spend a little time in the studio, I have been busy working on some birthday card designs for Milkwood Publishing, and as they are now finished I decided to start a lovely, sunny coastal painting.

I've decided to paint Godrevy Lighthouse in Cornwall, with lots of summery pink thrift in the foreground. This is the very bare bones of the painting, and I will spend some time working it up in layers.

I am using a gesso board for this, which is basically a piece of ply that has been professionally coated with white gesso. The colours look really bright when painted onto this surface and I'm pleased with how it's coming on.

This particular beach reminds me of a holiday we once spent on Hayle Towans in a beautiful 1950s style chalet, and one evening we had a small barbecue on the rocks, taking a picnic of fizzy wine and other goodies to munch on the beach as the sun went down.

How lovely to imagine that days like those aren't too far away again!

Til next time xxx

A Pause

noreply@blogger.com (Julia Crossland Art) — Thu, 02 Mar 2017 10:22:00 +0000

I'm not going to miss February, I am very happy that March has arrived, I found February a hard month to navigate, like walking through thick, dark treacle. It was a month of surprising lows and not many highs. I say surprising, because I had surfed most of the darker months unscathed, and usually I'm a person who suffers with SAD from mid December thereabouts. I thought I had escaped it, January was an ebullient and joyous month, crammed with opportunity and optimism and yet February sucked, at least, for most of it. I succumbed to feeling teary and lost, I had zero enthusiasm and cried at TV adverts (is this just me?). I slept a lot due to a heavy fatigue and ate too much junk (which hinders rather than helps) and felt generally pretty hopeless.

However, there were glimmers of light, hope and gratitude amidst the dark days. The first being when awaking teary once again my other half decided we should wag off work and go to Leeds for the day. I dropped my daughter at school, cheered on by a weak winter sun and felt a small bubble of - wait, was it...happiness? Yes, yes I think it might have been. The idea of leaving home for a few hours, going to a different city, to enjoy a wander, a hot coffee and a warming lunch - it was suddenly all rather exciting.

I was still somewhat fragile though, and found myself in one of my favourite shops, Neal's Yard Remedies, telling the lovely woman who works in there all about my ailments. I came away with a stash of St Johns Wort tincture, some healing Lemon Balm Tea, and a cocoa superfood blend for my smoothies. I made a concerted effort to eat better food, I religiously enjoyed a morning smoothie blessed by the magical qualities of the superfood powder, and slowly I started to feel better.

We went down south for the school holidays to stay with friends. It was a welcome break for us all and we enjoyed trips to London where we visited Madame Tussauds and down along the coast to Portsmouth. Storm Doris whipped the UK during our trip, and we went down to the local beach to see the fury of it, enjoying the energy and noise of the wild waves roaring up the pebble beach. The wind had us keeling almost sidewards, it was exhilerating, I loved it.

I arrived home after a full to bursting week feeling tired but good. I had a sudden rush of new ideas for paintings, and with the arrival of a brand new month I felt I had crossed the final frontier of winter and was heading, at last, in the right direction. To warmth, to the light.

Since my last post, I've been busy working on new paintings. I finished a Bluebell scene which is hopefully going to be turned into a print by Whistlefish Galleries, and another more illustrative one with my happy, colourful flowers called 'All Roads Lead Home' which reminds me of warm evenings in May (my favourite month) when all the colours are so glorious, and there are so many flowers to see.

These paintings were my saviour in February. Escaping to my studio, sticking on an old CD and whiling away the hours with paint and music is possibly the best therapy I can afford myself. I lose myself in those hours, thinking only of colour and form, allowing the images to emerge from my mind, through the brush and onto the paper or canvas.

They will both be available to purchase soon.

I'm now working on some beautiful, smaller, mounted paintings which will be perfect for Mother's Day gifts (including the image below). I am launching this little collection to my email subscribers first this Friday, so if you are interested in finding out more you are very welcome to sign up here.

So here's to March, a new month, a new season emerging. I am hopeful that it is going to be a good one.

Do Something Nice for Yourself

noreply@blogger.com (Julia Crossland Art) — Wed, 18 Jan 2017 10:39:00 +0000

January can be a difficult month, the cold weather and darkness can really permeate our souls and lay us low. Outside, things still look hard and predominantly brown, often damp. There are glimpses of Spring, tiny green shoots hiding amongst the rotting leaves and dark soil...but we often miss these gifts as our minds tell us that there are weeks of this cold and dark to endure, it's still only January and we have yet to struggle through February...

I've been this person, I've struggled with winter, suffered with the winter blues and not been able to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

So I decided to write myself a sort of permission slip - permission to be happy, permission to be grateful, and glad, and optimistic.

It starts with asking yourself - what can I do to make myself feel like that? It's so easy.

Do something nice for yourself. Something that will make you feel good.

It can be the luxury of an early night, getting cosy in fresh sheets with a good book and an hot water bottle, it could be a meal out with a loved one, or coffee with friends, a long country walk followed by a hearty pub lunch, watching a feel good film....it's endless, once we begin to think about the things we can do.

Choose Happy - a recent artwork in gouache and metallic watercolour

On Sunday, I woke up with a very obvious sensation of gloom in my belly. I went downstairs and made a coffee, the long day loomed ahead of me with no real incentive to do much. The bare trees looked listless and dull against a turbulent rain laden sky...come on, I said to myself, this won't do - what could you do that would make you feel better today? What would make you happy? Lift your spirits?

As I wandered into the lounge with my mug, I noticed a new flower catalogue on the table that had arrived in the post and took it with me to the sofa to have a look at. The sight of those bright flowers, swathes of colour on every page, cascades of tomatoes, and tall canes dripping with bright green beans had the effect of lifting me out of my low mood and planning a trip to our local garden centre to buy seeds!

It felt really good to browse that catalogue, and get ideas for what we could plant and grow this year.

I ended up with a lovely pack of sweet pea seeds and some special long planters to grow them in. I watched a clever video by Sarah Raven on how to do it and feel pretty confident that our garden will look and smell amazing come summer.

All of this created a huge well of optimism, it enabled me to lift out of the heavy gloom and focus on something positive that felt good.

Feeling good is what it's all about - once we have committed to that, we will find ways to make it happen.

The rest of the day passed by in a heavenly lounging manner, culminating with a nice roast dinner. I also planned a lazy soak in the bath with some favourite oils, and dug out a new book to read.

As always, last thing at night before my head hits the pillow, I write down my gratitudes for the day.

I was really grateful for how the day had turned out, and how a bunch of simple things had made a grey day in January really pretty special.

The secret is to keep doing this, to ask yourself everyday - what can I do to make myself feel good today? Even if it's just one thing, that's OK. Tiny steps taken daily will help to build a more positive mindset which in turn leads to an happier, more positive life.

What one nice thing will you do for yourself today?

A Work in Progress

noreply@blogger.com (Julia Crossland Art) — Tue, 10 Jan 2017 12:11:00 +0000

I was sat with a steaming cup of blackcurrant tea, looking out of my window at the sun rolling westwards and a flock of gulls winging their way across a powder blue sky - for a minute I wasn't in Yorkshire but at the coast. I watched their silhouettes, their slow and steady wing beat and I was savouring the flavour of the tea, it's fruity tang taking me back to when I was small and off school with a cold. Mum would make me hot Ribena to drink, to take away the sting of a sore throat.
My mind is wandering...I bring it back, back to the moment, to the gulls I am watching who are now silently winging their way over the woods and high up over the crags.

Being in the moment is something I have been practising since last year - it involves being present in the moment and not drifting into the past or planning ahead into the future. This one simple action helps to bring me back home to myself, when I find myself caught up in the highs or lows of everyday life - it helps me to regain my balance and my perspective.

That said, I'm still a work in progress. I sometimes forget.

When I forget to tend to myself, I lose myself. I become swamped by life, I dwell on things and ruminate until I realise my teeth are clamped hard together, my jaw hurts, I'm frowning, and I'm crabby.

And yet when I remind myself to just Be, the world seems to tilt on its axis to a quiet point, all is well...calm settles in my belly, I breathe...

There is so much peace and reassurance in any one moment.

It's so simple, I wonder why don't they teach this stuff to our kids in school?
Along with my meditation and yoga practice, my journals where I pour out my heart and write down my daily gratitude lists, I practise my mindfulness, moment by moment, day by day. I forget, I remind myself, I do it again. A work in progress this messy, beautiful life of ours.

And it is changing my life, as does being grateful, looking for gratitude in all things, being still in the moment, it changes who we are - it heals the dark corners and wakes us up to what an amazing thing this life of ours is.

It sounds blissful, and yes it's easier to do it when I feel good, not so much when life is harder. But that is the best time to practice, when life hurts or feels tough, to come back into that one precious moment and remind yourself in the thick of the chaos, you're home.

How do you find peace in the midst of the struggle? You stop, you breathe and you remember that this one moment is all there ever is, the past has gone and the future is still yet to be. And in that one moment, you are whole and complete, and there is the peace.

Sometimes life unexpectedly makes us stop and practice mindfulness without us even realising - with something fleeting like seeing a stunning sunset or hearing a beautiful birdsong, and when we start to stock pile those moments in our hearts, our lives are enriched.

I practice mindfulness when I am working, if I find myself struggling with a piece I pause...I breathe...and I allow myself to soak up the colour of the paint, the texture of the paint as I sweep my brush through it, it's so soft and buttery...the feeling of the brush as it meets with the paper...and in those small moments, so I come home to myself again, over and over.

And then I can see what needs to be done, there is ease where there was struggle.

There is space for mindfulness in all areas of our lives, no matter who we are and what we do. We are all, perfectly imperfect works in progress.

January

noreply@blogger.com (Julia Crossland Art) — Tue, 03 Jan 2017 14:19:00 +0000

A new year I think, brings it's own special sort of magic, it is a space for miracles and secrets and as the short days give way to the darkness that winter slumbers in, I sense anticipation, inspiration and new ideas being born.

A new moon and a new beginning, the children are now back at school and my home is back to normal - we took the decorations down and spruced things up, it felt fresher and better, more space to breathe as we shook off Christmas, the feasting, the traditions.

I'm very excited about this year, I have some wonderful plans in mind for my business and feel very happy about where I'm going. I will share more with you as things unfold, but for now I am planning a new range of artwork and a brand new sketch book group which I am going to host online, and which will be free and open to all abilities. I love what happens when we put pen or brush to paper without fear, when we let the buds of our own unique creativity unfurl and blossom...I hope that you will join me - I'll be posting more about this in coming weeks, but for now, the seeds are planted and plans are unfurling.

These last few weeks have seen me retreating as the dark nights grew ever longer and ever closer. I find myself soaking up the last rays of sun, drinking in the colour through my eyes, watching through my window as the sky turns from pink to lavender and finally to a deep navy studded with sparkling stars. I study the shapes of the bare trees, their branches stark black silhouettes against an army of marching clouds. I soak all this up and fill my soul with as much light as possible, and then reluctantly draw the curtains, light candles and retreat.

And in all of this, there is gratitude - for those few hours of light, for the time to retreat and incubate new ideas. To rest and nap more, to be quiet and gentle. For the first year in many, I have had a fairly decent run through these darker months, not yet succumbing to the winter blues and I am grateful and glad. I keep a journal each day - I write my blessings down and this in turn creates a wider, happier space within for more goodness to unfold. I begin to see more beauty in those brown, grey days...and there is much colour if I look carefully. I am finding myself constantly watching nature - seeing the first buds of spring push up through that hard black soil already, feeding the birds and watching as they dive into the garden to seek out supplies, listening out for and hearing the owls who each morning before light, remind us of their wise presence in the trees by the water.

And all of this, this quiet watching, this gentle retreat, is as necessary as air and water. It fills up my creative well and gives me a chance to dream up new ideas.

I'm hoping to spend more time writing this year, here on my blog. I have missed writing, and I'm eager to create this online journal of my thoughts and experiences here again.

I hope you will join me.

The Magic of Using a Sketch Book

noreply@blogger.com (Julia Crossland Art) — Mon, 17 Oct 2016 13:16:00 +0000

(Sketch book magic unfolding)

I must confess, I am not a person who uses a sketch book on a daily basis. I am not one of those artists who creates amazing visual keepsakes within the hard bound pages although I very much wish I was. I am a random sketch book user and yet I am going to try and remedy that to become a more frequent user, because I have discovered that something akin to magic can happen when I use one.

Earlier this year, I spent a few happy weeks creating daily sketches in a lovely A4 Stillman and Birn sketch book, these beautiful books allow the user to dabble with all manner of mixed media, the pages are wonderfully thick and absorbant so you can pretty much throw anything at them and it does not seep through to the other side (Ive used ink, gouache, watercolour etc). From those pages came an idea, which happened when a few flower doodles inspired a painting. And it changed the direction of my art completely.

(Magical Garden ~ the change in direction for my painting)

I had been rather stuck for a time, feeling that I was stagnating and becoming increasingly bored with what I was doing. Some friends and I agreed to do a drawing a day in order to inspire ourselves and one another. We shared our doings on Instagram, and yet for one reason or another, this daily drawing phase waned, tapered off and finally stopped.

One reason for me was that I was insanely busy creating these amazing new illustrative pieces, the ideas flowed thick and fast which was fabulous after feeling so stuck and lost. Lately I have been working on some commission pieces, the most recent one I completed was Padstow South Quay, a complete change of scene from those wandering, enchanting floral gardens I'd been creating. Padstow rather took it out of me, as I wrote about in my last post, and so it was I found myself pottering about in the studio the other day, digging out the sketch book and sitting down with my supplies.

I found a grey fine liner and drew randomly, a jar appeared....some seed heads....feeling inspired now I added some colour, dug out my fabric stash, added some colour swatches and I knew that I was going to turn this sketch into a piece of textile art. Which I did - Autumn Seed Heads emerged over the next couple of days, and it was a tonic to do something very tactile and free flowing after concentrating so hard on buildings and lots of windows.

(Autumn Seed Heads - Textile Art)

It was after I finished the hand embroidery that I began to realise how important a sketchbook is to me. As a person who likes to generate art from the energy of an idea and get it onto canvas, this is no small revelation - although I realise that to some of you who already regularly use one, it's obvious. So here I am. A sketch book convert of the most excited sort. I have seen the light, and I am most certainly going to be making a point of working in mine more often. I am also still going to jump straight into canvases and panels with nothing more than the bright spark of an idea, and the exctied rush of enthusiasm of knowing I'm onto a winning streak - those paintings and artworks are like gold dust and I think it shows in the finished piece.

I think it will be nice to have a visual diary of my ideas, of colours I liked and worked with. Of something to look over when the well of inspiration has dried up. I want to have sketch books that are keepsakes, not just rough pencil drawings hurriedly executed, pages torn out and then left to gather dust. I want to create sketch books that are beautiful to look at, that tell stories of my journey as an artist, to look back over and to see how far I have travelled.

I'm not certain if I will become one of those women who stop and draw in the middle of a town centre - at the moment I am very much a studio based sketcher, but I think I could be portable if needs must...and I think, perhpas I would enjoy it. I have memories of sketching in a cafe in Prague on a college trip many moons ago, and at the Opera - those drawings evoke more memories than a photograph ever could.

I am also thinking about starting some kind of sketch book club, perhaps online in the new year...it is the mere seed of an idea at the moment, but I was thinking along the lines of a private Facebook group where we can chat and share our sketch book work as we go. I have much more thinking to do about this but perhaps it might be something you would be interested in joining in with? Let me know your thoughts!

Labour of Love

noreply@blogger.com (Julia Crossland Art) — Mon, 10 Oct 2016 12:37:00 +0000

(Padstow - new painting)

Great news! After several weeks of a full on love hate relationship with this painting, I'm happy to say that it is finally finished.

I did this piece as a commission for Milkwood Publishing, and it will be making it's way down to them in the coming few days.

Some paintings seem to flow and happen as if by magic. Others, do not. This one became a journey in that it tested all my limits. There were moments when I adored it, I was focused and my hand was steady. I had the patience to add all the little people, and all those windows and then there were days I went down the studio and I sat and looked at it, painted bits in, washed bits out and in all honesty could have happily chucked it over the wall and into the river below. I may have had a slightly childish tantrum about it all, bashed things about a bit and said dubious and obnoxious things to it. I may have also ignored it for several days which is actually no bad thing really, it gives you space to think and breathe while you decide what to do next.

I do like a painting that does this though, it challenges me and pushes me to explore both the medium and myself. How am I resisting or restricting myself? Why am I creating blocks here? Why was yeseterday so much fun and today is frustrating and soul destroying?

As an artist it's important to allow growth, to tackle difficult things and learn how to overcome them. I found the buildings a challenge after spending so many months painting flowers from my imagination. Suddenly I had moved from a very illustrative, and meditative way of painting to a much more structured and architectural piece - something I havent done in a long time.

But I'm so pleased with the result, I hope you like it too.

(Goodness me, I've got a You Tube channel!)

Another thing I'm pretty chuffed with is that I made my first ever video - I'm an utter novice at stuff like this, so it was a really big step to take the plunge and plop myself in front of the camera. It's been fun figuring out how to make small films though, and although I'm certain it's not super polished or slick, I do hope you enjoy it.

I shared this video with my newsletter subscribers a few weeks ago, and plan to share others with them in the coming months which will include tutorials, sketch book journeys and other things that they have asked to see.

This first little clip shows a little glimpse into my studio.

If you would like to be on my mailing list, you can find out more and sign up here. I send out newsletters once a fortnight, usually on a friday and occasionally will drop an extra email to you with a nice little gift code, or special offer inside it as well!

Right, I must get back to it, I have another Padstow painting to begin - this is a nice one with views over the river to the town in the distance. I think, after all those windows and roof tiles I'm going to really enjoy it!

When Solitude Turns to Isolation and What I Do When it Happens

noreply@blogger.com (Julia Crossland Art) — Mon, 03 Oct 2016 09:59:00 +0000

So today, I wanted to write about my experience of what it's like to work on your own, for yourself. I used to have this rose tinted vision that working for yourself would be this 100% amazing dream job, and don't get me wrong, in many ways it absolutely is but I want to tackle the element of loneliness, when your happy bubble of solitude turns into an isolation that I had never anticipated happening as I swanned about being an artist and it all being fabulous.

And it happens.

We are social creatures, we need to be around other people (well, most of us do, I suppose there are always some folks who don't) and I personally find it nourishing, enriching and supportive to have other people around me at times. However, for the vast majority of the day, when my daughter is away at school and my partner is out at work I am usually very much on my own, left to my own devices. And this is often good, and I mostly enjoy it - I get tonnes of work done, and pass the time listening to great tunes on my Ipod or Classic FM, depending on which mood I'm in. I wind up those days feeling euphoric at what I've completed, a feeling of fullness and satisfaction that I've had a good day and I've produced good work.

And sometimes, I don't feel that way. Sometimes, the loneliness kicks in and it can feel like my body has turned to lead, it seems that I have forgotten how to create stuff and I don't know what to do with myself.

It usually starts with a small knot of feelings in my gut, a little like anxiety - I feel a need to be with people, coupled with an acute sensation of it just being me by myself that day and that that is not going to be ok. If I don't act on that subtle sensation that is telling me that I need company, I find myself feeling heavier and more unhappy as the day draws on.

So, my fail safe way of coping with these kinds of days is to get out. I now forcibly remove myself from the house, I take a sketch book or notepad and a fat pencil case full of writing and drawing supplies, and I get myself over to our local cafe where I treat myself to a large mocha or cappucino, and maybe a delicious treat and I squirrel myself away into a cosy corner with my goodies and I settle in for a good hour.

See, most of my friends work in the day, they don't have the flexibility that I have (working for myself) to do this kind of thing or meet up spontaneously. So, to get my fix of people I put myself in a busy environment where I am around other bodies and you know what, this really helps. I feel connected, I can hear conversations and maybe music, there is this very soothing buzz of life happening and it tends to always have the desired effect upon me, bringing me back to a place that feels happy and more grounded.

While I'm there, I will fill my notebook with ideas as they come, maybe journal a little of how I'm feeling and perhaps even work on some new sketches. I will often have a book and spend a little time reading, it all fills up the well and by the time I get home I'm usually ready to roll again and don't mind being by myself so much.

Another option that I take is to go for a walk. Or I get out on my bike for half an hour. Sometimes I just need a change of scenery and to raise the endorphins by taking a bit of spontaneous exercise. I'm lucky in that I'm close to the Trans Peninne Trail which is a great place for bike riding, and also some gorgeous countryside that offers great local walks to really clear the head.

I have also found that by planning out my week every Sunday evening brings me much more focus. I know what I'm doing and when I need to do it by, and I've discovered that being disciplined as a self employed artist is pretty much essential! I find the times that I do feel isolated is usually when I haven't remembered to plan my week ahead, or I have blanks in my planner that don't have any structure. I didn't used to be this organised, but as I've got older it just feels easier and more manageable to plan things a few days in advance.

As well as work stuff, I also make plans to meet up with friends, and make sure weekends are family orientated. I take a yoga class once a week and when I can, I try and go swimming at our local pool. So my planner is my magnetic north, it keeps me on track and headed in a good direction.

Being mindful is also a good way to bring myself back into the present moment, when I'm overrun with feelings of being flat, lonely and unmotivated. I take a few moments to be really conscious about what I'm doing, be it making a cuppa or simply walking. I also write a list of gratitudes in my journal every night and find that this practice really brings home how much I have to be thankful for, even when I think I've had the crappiest day of the century.

Working for myself is the best job I could imagine, but I know I wouldn't last two minutes without these self support structures in place. Why not share ways that you overcome feelings of isolation, just add them to the comments below, it would be great to hear from you.

How Autumn Inspires Me

noreply@blogger.com (Julia Crossland Art) — Mon, 26 Sep 2016 12:59:00 +0000

So it's the end of September, already. I'm feeling Autumn in my bones, and inhaling the scent of it as I walk my daughter to school. The morning air is damp and cool and there are small yellow and orange leaves in the gutter, like leftover confetti from a carnival. Our light evenings are dwindling into darkness earlier, and I notice that my flip flops are still in the hallway and need to go back in the cupboard. I need to dig out warmer things, like cosy boots and warm scarves.

I let go of summer reluctantly, I didn't want the warmth to leave, the long heady days where the sun shone and it was hot and we went to the beach and life felt free and brilliant. I didn't want to let go of that and I resisted Autumn, I felt a sort of grief as I tried to reconcile myself to the fact that the season was changing and that was that. Never more so do I feel a change in the seasons as when Summer departs, yet having to let go of the warmer weather reminds me again to be mindful, to accept change and allow life to flow as it always will.

Acceptance instantly makes things feel easier.

The arrival of Autumn has led to some new colours on my palette. I walk alot and notice flowers, seedheads and stems, I see structure and colour and although bright it is not 'fresh bright' like you see in May. These colours are mature, they are deep and warm as they hold the heat of the sun and stories of long days.

I drank in these beautiful colours and used them in my latest painting 'September' which I just recently finished. I wanted to capture those colours and the feelings of late summer, such a mixture of happy and wistful. I wanted to paint the sadness of summer leaving us, so a flock of lonely birds migrating in the sky above those vivid blooms is my nod to saying goodbye. I painted a robin into the picture too, as I hear his song tinged with melancholy as I work in the studio. He sits on the wall by the door and I see him through the window and I wonder if he too, feels the change as we do. I think he does.

My paintings are becoming more emotive and I find myself thoroughly immersed in these floral pieces - have no idea how they are going to unfold. I begin them with a wisp of an idea, a shape or a colour that I know I must capture and put on canvas. The rest just happens.

I have an idea bubbling away for a winter piece soon, I can already feel and see the colours that I will use - a brand new palette again to capture the fleeting colour and sensations of our seasons. I am finding it very medatitive creating these art works, and I really hope that they resonate with you in some way too.

Like many people, this time of year feels like a new beginning for me, almost like New Year where we feel compelled to set new intentions, create new habits, buy new materials and note books, start journalling and dreaming up new ideas. I like that after the lazy days of summer I am able to find a focus again, I feel industrious and brimming with possibility.

I take care to plan my days now, it is important for me to have a routine and structure or else I am easily led astray and end up meandering, reading books and baking cakes. I invested in this Happy Planner a few months back, and each Sunday evening I spend a pleasant time filling in the coming week with my plans. I can't imagine how I lived without one for so long - the addition of washi tape and planner stickers from various sellers on Etsy have made my schedule (especially the chores) look far prettier and easier on the eye. I'd heartily recommend getting one if you haven't already. I feel happier knowing that I have some semblence of order in my world, just having things penciled in and knowing what's going on is mighty comforting.

Autumn is a beautiful time of year and I am happily looking forward to crisp walks through colourful leaves, a trip to the coast, amazing sunsets, bonfires, mulled cider and of course cosy nights curled up in front of the fire with family.

Let Autumn inspire you - tell me your favourite ways of enjoying this beautiful season.

J xxx

A long overdue Hello...

noreply@blogger.com (Julia Crossland Art) — Thu, 26 May 2016 12:33:00 +0000

(The Magical Garden)

Is it really May? Has it really been this long since I wrote a blog post? It seems so. This year is meandering and winding along in its own sweet way, it seems a time of growing and learning and slowing down to appreciate and accept things.

I don't know if I mentioned it but I had a tricky few months where I didn't want to paint. I'd go as far as to say that I didn't know what to do with myself at all, I had ground to something of a full stop and my mind was full of questions and panic.

If I don't do this, then what?

I had become tired of my style, tired of painting the same thing. I was fed up of feeling flat and lifeless, and truth be told I was also scared. I realised that I had let my work define me, I had given myself a label and didn't know what to do without it.

So, I let myself wander a bit. I walked around with those lost feelings and wondered how to heal them, and how to find my way again. In the end, I just gave in and let go. What will be, will be.

One day, I went down to my studio, I unlocked the door and wandered over to my desk. I didn't have a clue what I was going to do. I was an empty vessel of possibility, and surprisingly this felt ok. I squeezed out some paint, filled up my jam jar with fresh water and took out a wooden panel. And then I sat there for a while, just thinking.

(The beginnings of the Magical Garden)

I decided not to inspire myself online. I decided not to do what I had always done (which was lose hours of my life on Pinterest, blogs and websites being inspired), but just sit there and let it flow. And like some celestial miracle from above, that is what happened. I kid you not, I just let the brush do the talking and watched in something akin to astonishment as I began to fill that panel with colour, and then began to fill it with blooms and flowers working right to left (which in itself is strange, as I always work left to right across a canvas). I felt the stirrings of something exciting happening. I utterly lost myself in that painting and the hours melted away. It was fortuitous that I happened to look at the clock on the studio wall to discover it was slightly past three in the afternoon, and I needed to be collecting my daughter from school, or I fear I may well have sat there painting until bedtime.

I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened in my studio. I went in the next day and sat for a while, looking at what I had done before picking up the brush and with no effort at all filling the spaces with colour and life. I didn't have to think, it appeared as if someone else were doing the work and I were merely a bystander.

And so, the Magical Garden was created. It embodied the quiet mystery of those days in my studio where magic had actually happened. People seemed to like it very much, and yet I couldn't explain where it had come from, this image, this change of style from seawashed beaches to enchanted gardens twinkling with fairy lights.

But I liked it.

And since then, I have worked on a few more like it. And just like the first one, they seem to happen all by themselves, my brushes take on a life of their own and breathe their magic into the artwork. I sit there, and let it come. I know this may seem slightly woo-woo to some of you reading this, but it's the best way I can explain it to you.

(A corner of Twilight Magic)

(Midsummer)

Some of these works are now living in happy new homes, and limited editions are being enjoyed in various homes around the globe. Newer pieces are with a publishing company and are being considered as art prints and cards. I feel astonished and amazed. And in the middle of this amazement, I am conscious that this is what happens when we let it be, when we just surrender into the moment and let the magic come. We can't force it, we can't be anyone else and if we just stop and pause, be mindful and let the panic and the fear ebb away...it comes.

(a work in progress)

This art journey of mine ties in with other things I've been experiencing of late. As I move forward into my early forties I notice subtle changes. I seem to have gained some extra weight which has crept on insidiously without me noticing, and have been prone to some roller coaster mood swings and low times. These have been hard to bear at times, and I have felt at a loss, even a sense of grief as I realised I needed to let go of certain things in order to move forward. I struggled to accept my expanding waistline and would look on in horror as yet another outfit refused to fit. It seems, as some of you will wisely know, to be just a part of getting a bit older. I have done my homework though, and I understand this phase much better now, I'm no longer 25 and cannot eat pudding and cake as often as I might like. It seems one needs to adhere to the idea of smaller portions but also to be mindful that nothing is prohibited. I have found that this way works for me far better than any quick fix diet, and have been gradually losing a few of those unwanted pounds while at the same time accepting the new curvier version of myself and investing in a few bits of clothing that actually fit which feels great!

I have also found a wonderful herbalist who I see every few weeks and I feel much more relaxed and happy. I am devouring many healing books (Susun Weed and Marilyn Glenville) and working with mindfulness CDs (try Sandy C Newbigging, his recordings and books are amazing) as well as practising it in day to day life. I have started to go on bike rides along the trans Pennine trail, a beautiful car free route through countryside and woodland which is close to my home, and I continue with my yoga and trying to eat healthier (well, most of the time!) I like to think that I am supporting my mind, body and soul as well as I can by doing these new things, and it all feels postitive.

There are still some days which are tough, but as I accumulate a new tool kit to help me navigate this part of my life, I feel stronger and better able to understand what I really need, to be healthy and well.

(Enchanted Cove)

I look forward to sharing more new art work with you all soon. I am also pleased to tell you that Twilight Magic will soon be available in the gallery shop as a limited edition print (in a run of 25). Why not sign up to my mailing list to find out when they are here?

Thanks so much for reading.

Have a beautiful day.

Julia x

Paint, Draw, Create

noreply@blogger.com (Julia) — Mon, 18 Jan 2016 10:14:00 +0000

I am a soul who is very much affected by the weather, today is a day that makes me feel my surroundings are unbearable - a dreary fog, leftover patches of ice and snow and sad looking trees, dripping water from their bare brown branches. I am trying hard to see beyond the brown and grey tones of the day and notice the birds who are visiting, and the new buds that are appearing, not to mention an early abundance of spring bulbs peeking out in my pots, delicious and succulent strong green shoots full of promise and hope.

So, my daily challenge is proving to be a huge tonic as it takes my mind away from the awful weather outside, and I can lose myself in my imagination where colour and magic lurks. It is a fabulous distraction, this daily half an hour is both medicinal and productive in ways I hadn't imagined. It is allowing me a space to play, away from the more serious business of producing art for licensing companies and to sell on my website, and for galleries and so forth. It is a pocket of time where I get to explore ideas that would normally be forgotten, to put them onto paper, to see what happens when I play with gouache or ink. Some of the pieces have surprised me - I've been rather excited by what I've produced. Other days, when its not so easy to get inspired and I sit looking at a white piece of paper in my book it is harder yet still I draw....something.

I am using everyday objects as a starting point - a bottle of Henderson's relish was one, a blackbird in the garden was another.

I am discovering a like of typographical art, and I am absolutely in love with gouache paint - why haven't I tried this before? I am now a convert, loving the buttery paint that dries to a chalky opaque finish which I can draw over in ink or felt pen. It is opening up new horizons for my work. I can see how my #paintdrawcreate366 daily art pieces are moving me in new directions, teaching me to try new things, and it feels good. Exciting.

These aren't polished, finished pieces and some of them I felt a little awkward about sharing on Instagram. Having being used to tidying everything up in photoshop after working hard to perfect a piece, this is a new one on me in a way, laying bare the bones of a piece of work as it is, paint sloppily going over the edges, the writing not quite fitting in the space, sloping upwards, colours bleeding....all the little flaws that are suddenly just part of the piece. And me and the girls decided to brave it, to share the crappy pieces along with the ones we really liked. It's like running down the street in your underwear, you feel a little exposed and embarressed that people are seeing it.

If you want to join us, you can share your pictures on Instagram using the hashtag #paintdrawcreate66. You will find me trying my best to post daily alongside Caroline Rose Art, Marna Lunt and Kate Brazier, Artist.

Explore. Create. Join in.

Julia x

New year, new habits

noreply@blogger.com (Julia) — Tue, 05 Jan 2016 11:25:00 +0000

#paintdrawcreate366

I have had a strong feeling for a while that I need to try a new way of living my life. It has felt kind of dull, static, and in need of a change. I am not really one for new year resolution's as such, as they are doomed to failure as the expectations are often too high, but I can manage a few new habits that I can work on each day, gentle changes that I can incorporate into my life to make it feel happier and fuller.

I spent much of 2015 procrastinating and feeling wistful for something, I know not what exactly...just a feeling that there had to be more to it all, and in the midst of feeling like this I stopped looking after myself, choosing to stuff these unpleasant feelings down with food and so I ended the year much heavier than I have ever been, feeling sluggish, with poor skin and stomach aches and feeling worn out from the struggle with fluctuating hormones, migraines and all the other stuff being a 40 odd year old woman can bring.

Reading up on these things has given me greater clarity and I felt relieved to know I wasn't going mad, it was all perfectly normal for me to feel like making changes and it's not just me that feels like this. Phew.
I have started taking some vitamins to support my body, as well as flaxseed oil to help keep my omega 3s levels happy. A vitamin D spray was also purchased in an attempt to stave off the winter blues which has been something that happens every winter in memory to me. I am not a person who enjoys the dark, cold climate, especially this bloody awful misty, wet and soggy weather we have been experiencing here in Yorkshire.

So January dawned, a bright, sparkly new year full of possibility. It felt like a good time to take stock, to decide what to do next, and have some kind of direction rather than wandering through life like a car with a broken sat-nav.

My first quest was to become healthier again, to start eating better and exercising every day. Yes, that's right. Every day. I am very much an all or nothing person so it made sense to me to embrace this and create daily goals for myself. So I set out to do yoga at home (check out Yoga with Adriane on You Tube), or take a walk at lunch time, maybe some resistance work with my kettle bells or a good workout with a new Davina McCall DVD. Just half an hour to an hour every day. Totally do-able if I commit to it and allow for it to be a part of my day rather than an added extra that I try to squeeze in somewhere.

The second thing was to paint every day.

I have been following August Wren over on Facebook and through her Instagram and blog for a while now, and she is a most inspiring soul. A recent post she wrote could have been written by me, it was remarkable how similar we are both feeling about things!
So, I am joining her with a painting a day, and some friends and I have also started our own hashtag #paintdrawcreate366 for this year as a way to be accountable for getting this done. It seems much easier to blag off if there is only you to answer to, but if you have friends who are doing it too then you don't want to let them down, you get on with it to prove to yourself and to them that you won't give up here.
If you like, you can join us. It doesn't matter what you do - paint, draw, sew, knit, if its creative - do it - and share pics of your makes with us on Instagram using the hashtag #paintdrawcreate366. Already there are a few people adding their art to the stream, and it's good to have a group of people to follow as it's also very inspiring watching them progress.

The third thing is, to write.

Two years ago this February, I was away in north Norfolk for a few days, and I had this absolute gem of an idea for a story.
I never wrote it.
Two years later, and that story is still in my head, except, it isn't because I forgot most of the plot and moved on to different stories that I still haven't written.
I have a deep desire to write a book, a good story book. This year, I am making daily writing time - if it's just ten minutes, or an hour it doesn't matter. I am writing in my journal, on my blog, short creative writing pieces on my laptop. It's all good practice and with each day I hope I will get a bit better at it, and all the ramblings might actually lead somewhere.

It feels good to feel positive again, to have a focus each day. Almost like a school timetable I am structuring my days to accomodate these pleasing pursuits, discarding things that no longer fit in or work for me, and including ones that do. I am still painting, I am still working and illlustrating but I am also doing other stuff that I had forgotten I enjoyed so much.

Your life, your choices.

Happy 2016.
Julia x

A Great Escape

noreply@blogger.com (Julia) — Fri, 04 Dec 2015 10:11:00 +0000

It's been a hive of activity here, working on commissions for Christmas for dear customers, and in between painting a handful of special Christmas decorations. In the midst of all this I began to feel like I needed to get out, escape. Do you ever have that feeling?

Previous to feeling like this, I'd had a few emails about the Knitting and Stitching show in Harrogate, but up until last Thursday I had only half heartedly contemplated going. However, that morning as the sun rose up over the crags, I had a sudden urge for adventure, to go off by myself somewhere for a day. As luck would have it, my other half was working from home and was available to do the school run, so I gathered my belongings and drove off to the station to get my tickets.

It was a crisp, bright day. Perfect for adventure. Boarding the train I felt a sudden rush of good feelings. We whizzed through pretty countryside, the rolling hills lay tinged with gold in the morning light and eventually we got to Leeds where I had to change trains.

Wow.

Such noise, bustle and life! Such crowds, comings and goings of trains pulling in and out, tannoy calls, the aroma of fresh coffee and toasties, the rumble of suitcase wheels on the tarmac, the unmistakeable smell of the trains, a shriek of a whistle...every nerve ending in my body was suddenly alive, tingling with the delight of doing something new and different to the ordinary.

As our train pulled away from Leeds, I got to thinking, and I realised that my world had become small and predictable. In fact, bubble like. I had my routines down to a fine art, I did the school run, I went to the supermarket, did chores and household tasks...and I hasten to add, I'm not complaining about any of this. I love my family, my work and my home. But somewhere along the way this routine had become my lifestyle, and the person who I used to be had got lost underneath a never ending list of 'To Do's' and demands.

Sophie Digard scarves, at the Selvedge stand

Eventually I arrived at Harrogate, a sparkling day pregnant with possibility. On the train I had messaged some friends to tell them of my plans, and it just so happened my dear friend Marna was travelling to the show too, so we arranged to meet up! Neither of us had had any idea the other was going, and as we hadn't seen each other since June, we jumped at the chance of a catch up.

Serendipitous things kept happening, when I got to the show (minus ticket) I asked a guide where I might purchase one. A dear lady with a group of friends overheard me asking, and offered me a spare they were trying to sell - so I got in for the amazing price of £10, as opposed to £17!

Marna and I wandered around the halls admiring the exhibits and purchasing some gorgeous things. The Knitting and Stitching show is great for inspiration, it fills up my well completely and I came home bursting to the brim with new ideas and plans. After creating a brand new type of mixed media work last month, I felt reassured that I would be working on more things like that next year, the tactile element of mixed media work delights me and it's definitely going to be featuring more in what I do.

Felted necklace by Felt by Bridget

The day was a tonic. Marna and I talked non stop about all kinds of things; our work, marketing, selling online, and then things more closer to the heart, our struggles, being this age and the challenges it brings. I have resolved to do things like this more often now - my other half is very supportive of this luckily, and between us we can arrange child care and such like. As much as I like where we live, and love what I do I am seeing that it is essential to my well being to do things for myself like this, to have these times either alone or with friends where I can reconnect with myself and forget about all the other stuff. I'm grateful for my life, for all the opportunities, but there are also parts of my life that have slowly evolved and absorbed me without me even noticing. Routine and habit can eat away at us, leave us dull and listless.

Tomorrow I am going to Birmingham to see my friend Kate Brazier, a talented artist who is exhibiting at the Etsy Christmas market. Our friend Andrea Berry who is a textile artist and makes the most amazing bags, is meeting me at the station and we are going to shop, chat, shop, chat and then later on the three of us will go for a bite to eat and a Christmas drink and talk about all the things that light us up. Whenever I see these girls, I always leave their company feeling buoyed, illuminated and happy. I've also booked a workshop at Hope and Elvis next May, where I will be learning how to solder with Di T Foster - I can't wait to try something new!

Practising gratitude for the small things, every day. Planning more adventures, dreaming up new art. Writing more, making time for self care, more yoga and sitting quietly.

Have a lovely weekend.
Julia x

Monday Morning Ramblings

noreply@blogger.com (Julia) — Mon, 16 Nov 2015 10:19:00 +0000

The sun is shining and I am sitting in my new studio, which sits nestled at the bottom of the garden next to the river. I have filled the bird feeder up with sunflower hearts and all manner of winged ones are descending to breakfast. I am amazed by the strength and resilience of them, they are beautiful and welcome company now I no longer have Pig to chat to all day.

I am remembering a peaceful week when we stayed in Norfolk. It was half term and our whole family went to stay in a big house that was a stones throw from the beach at Old Hunstanton. It was a time to be still, to listen to the shifting seasons, to inhale the tangy air that came in on sea breezes across the salt marshes. It was a time to heal the tired parts of ourselves, to enjoy being together, to laugh and eat good food, to reminisce.

I find Autumn a curious season, it is blessed with the brightest of blue skies and drowsy mists. There is a low, bright sun, then torrential rains and swirling winds. It is a goodbye, it is a letting go. It is a time to turn inward and listen to our soul. Nature drenches the country with colour; vibrant golds, reds and chestnuts and then there are faded lime greens, acidic lemon yellows, soft rose pinks - it's breathtaking.

These last few days I have found myself battling a deep gloom, yet not for the first time. After months of trying every herbal and holistic remedy under the sun I finally went to see my doctor (a couple of years ago now) and accepted some good old western medicene to help my body deal with the changes this time of a woman's life brings. I suffer from fatigue, migraines, and moments of not knowing myself. Last week I struggled to work as I had what a nurse friend of mine called a panic attack - the palpitations were the most worrying as I had never experienced such a thing before. All of these things never used to happen to me, I am a generally fit and healthy soul who eats nourishing good whole foods, I don't smoke but I like a gin and a glass of good wine, I'm a regular person not a perfect one. I sense change, and like Autumn, I sense that I am receeding into myself and beginning to let go of something. I hesitated to share this here as I fear it is a taboo subject in a way (anything to do with emotions and hormones is), but I decided I would. Social media and the internet in general is very good at showing us how to ahve polished, perfect, impossible lives which we often aspire to. I know that I have a nice job and am lucky enough to have a studio of my own to work in, and I can imagine what pictures this might conjure up for some people, and I suppose I want to say that I'm normal, I'm just like you. I'm 42 and sometimes I find life hard and my hormones are to blame as they shift and change and I struggle to understand who I am.

I want you to know that its ok, if you feel like this, its ok - you're not on your own. I sought support and feel better, but I still have days where its hard to get out of bed, am deblilitated by crushing migraines, fatigue and depression.

I find yoga helps. I attend a wonderful class every tuesday morning with a brilliant bunch of women who have become friends. I also practice at home on my mat, and try to remember to be mindful as much as possible.

So, I sit here this morning, and I am counting my gratitudes. I am grateful for my friends, a support network which begins with friends in my village here and which stretches out across the country. I am grateful for my warm home, my family, the food we eat. I am grateful to hear the sound of water near my door as I work. I am grateful for big sunsets, Autumn colour and the chance to wear a bright winter coat and warm boots. I am grateful for this journey, for all the parts of it.

I know its not just me, I know that we each walk past people in the street and none of us can know what is going on inside of them. In light of this weekend's awful tragedy in Paris, it brings it home to me even more to be kinder, to smile at a stranger, to pay a compliment, to offer to help. Such small acts can make a day - last week I was shopping and feeling particularly lousy after a nasty outbreak of eczema, and the man at the counter complimented me on my brooch and then wished me a nice day. He probably had no idea how much his words lifted my spirits. Little acts of kindness like that, have the power to go a long, long way.

I think its time to be more honest, to be more open and caring. Our fast paced world leaves little or no time for empathy and listening as we constantly tune in to devices, our faces fixed to a screen instead of on a loved one. I am practising this too, turning off the laptop, leaving the ipad alone until my daughter has gone to bed. I want her to know a Mum who has time for her and I want to remember her laughter and her conversations. I am not always successful, I am afraid I am as addicted to technology as many others are, but its a practice. I am slowing down in more ways than one, honouring my body, and my soul. Listening. Deeply listening, beyond the pings of emails and tweets, of Facebook and Instagram.

Please take time this week to look at the sky, just look up and be glad for something. Make time for yourself, for your family and your dear ones.

I think from the title of this blog, you might have expected it to be an unravelling of thoughts and I have written without pausing, just let the words come, so it has been that!

I hope you have a nice week, wherever you are in the world.

Sending you love,
Julia x

Island Life

noreply@blogger.com (Julia) — Tue, 18 Aug 2015 09:33:00 +0000

A snapshot of my summer....

Two weeks on an island, staying at a house nestled in the countryside with views over to the solent beyond the trees. It was peaceful, restorative, and beautiful.

There was architecture and great old buildings to admire...

The island was colourful, yet slow paced. It was contemporary yet traditional. We enjoyed lazy beach days, long breakfasts in beach-side cafes and discovering wonderful shops in the towns and villages.

Discovering surprises around each corner...

Steps leading down to crystal clear water...the sea was so beautiful and constantly inviting...

The views were amazing...

We could have stayed forever.

Holidays are sometimes for realising dreams. For years I have wanted to go kayaking, and on our last day on the island, I did. The sun was hot, it was the most peaceful feeling as we gently made our way over the waves. We sailed over forests of seaweed, long burgundy ribbons swaying in the currents below. The water was so very clear and I found myself often gazing over the side of our kayak, to the sandy bottom below where sunlight rippled across rocks and sand, through seaweed and shoals of fish.

Home now, we are so happy to have spent such a relaxing and nourishing time together on the island.
As summer starts to ebb away, work begins again, and normal life is resumed, yet those memories of a beautiful place remain.

Things I'm doing this summer

noreply@blogger.com (Julia) — Tue, 21 Jul 2015 09:53:00 +0000

It's finally the summer holidays.

A huge, generous sigh of relief...the dreamy feeling of relaxing, resting and going to the coast.

A decadent feeling of being unhurried, of spending time with family and friends, of a friends summer wedding, of barbeques, picnics and walks in the woods. Of sipping cool white wine under the stars on a warm evening, lying in bed reading a book and listening to the summer birds in the sky outside my open window....

Summer...long days, warm days, sunshine and flowers, bare toes in the sand, cool waves and sea swimming...

And art.

In the past I have struggled a bit with summer holidays. My work seems to come to an abrupt end as I slam headlong into the six week break, but this year, I invested the Ultimate Business Survival Guide for the School Holidays - a course of podcasts and fabulous advice, from The Girls Mean Business, and for the first time ever, I feel that I will be able to keep my little art business ticking over whereas in the past, I haven't - I've let it drift and believed that I couldn't both work and look after my family! I strongly urge you to bob along to Claire's website if you are a small creative business owner with young children - it's priceless and the supportive information will make you feel like you aren't the only one tearing your hair out as you struggle to keep all the balls in the air.

I wanted to share an interview that I did recently for the wonderful Yay Retro. I often visit this website to drool over their amazing vintage and retro wares that they have on sale, and to read their excellent blog, and so needless to say I was over the moon when they got in touch and asked if I'd be interested in having a chat! You can find me in the 'Our Friends' section on their blog, and read the interview right here.

I will pop back at intervals over the summer, to keep you posted about what I'm up to. I also have something majorly exciting unfolding at the moment which I will be able to share with you in the coming weeks.

I'm planning on taking a watercolour sketch book away with me on holiday this summer, and will share snaps of what I'm creating on my Instagram - I really like visual diaries, and have dabbled in the past but spurred on by some great pictures I've found on Pinterest, I've decided to have a proper go at making my own this year. I'll be using a Fabriano art journal, taking my travel set of Sennelier watercolours with me, and a pencil case of fine line pens and pencils.

Have a wonderful Summer! (or winter, if you're one of my southern hemisphere readers)

Things you might not know about being an artist - part 2

noreply@blogger.com (Julia) — Fri, 10 Jul 2015 09:51:00 +0000

As a creative person who works for herself, running her own business, I have the lovely job of painting for a living. As much as I love this side of things, I have also had to embrace the more businessy side of things, which includes organising my accounts, filing stuff, emailing people, and pricing.

Pricing. Ah yes, that little chestnut which can cause so much grief and panic for the creative person, bring up all manner of insecurities and fears.

I have been using a basic formula for a few years now which seems to work well for me. It's jolly simple and includes these elements:

Cost of materials used - such as paint, canvas, framing(including supporting costs and any overheads)
Time - how long it has taken to create the work
Profit - which speaks for itself

Usually, profit is the last thing I figure in, because lets face it and be totally honest - we're in business to make money - its not a hobby, its not a bit of a laugh - we're earning money to pay for our kids swimming classes, new clothes, a bill, to put food on the table so the profit is the essential bit on the top, the amount we get after we've covered our outgoings.

Most of us run a creative business because we love it, and if we didn't, we'd combust or something equally awful. It's not always an easy career choice, it can be antisocial, sales can fluctuate with the seasons and it can be a giant ballache at times when your mojo goes on holiday.

We also want to contribute to the family income, we want to have something to do alongside being a Mum, a partner, a wife and so on (or, not wanting to exclude anyone - Hubster or Dad if you're a chap who happens to be reading this post). We want something for us, but we ultimately want a bit of financial independence doing something we love.

So, with these three basic elements covered I then check out the competition. By this I mean that I look at what my contemporaries are producing, and I also see what they are currently charging.

The reason I do this is because I don't want to price myself out of the market, I don't want to undersell myself, and I also don't want to undercut others as this devalues what EVERYONE is doing. It's not good business etiquette and you're not doing your reputation any favours in the long run if you do this. Familiarising myself with what other artists are doing helps to keep me on track.

There's a whole heap of other stuff involved in pricing too - such as marketing your work and actually getting the stuff to sell (which I'll save for another post) but for now I've covered the basics.

I'm going to bring up the subject of discounts in this post too, because I feel it's relevant.

Sometimes I offer a percentage off certain ranges of my art. These have been carefully calculated and are not usually done on a whim. I have still factored in all of the three elements above, and have decided that yes, I can still cover costs and earn a profit at this particular time - it's also a nice gesture to offer my loyal customers, or gives new ones an incentive to buy something from me. However, I couldn't afford to run my business like this all of the time, I'd be running at a loss. So, I sometimes feel a little put out when I get emails from people asking for discount. In the past, I've agreed to it, but now I don't. I personally wouldn't wander into a shop and ask for a discount on an item I liked. I'd see what it cost and accept that that was the price, and if I wanted it badly enough I'd pay it (or save up until I could afford to buy it).

I wonder if the people who ask artists for discount actually understand what goes into creating an original, or a run of limited edition prints? It's not been mass produced in a factory in China, it's something that has been produced over time with a lot of thought and love. It's emotive, it creates a connection within the person who sees it. The need for a piece of art can be impulsive or calculated (based on whether it will match the furnishings in the living room). When you buy art from an artist, you are essentially buying a little piece of that person - before they created it, it didn't exist. You're getting a glimpse of the insides of someone's imagination. What is produced by brush, pen, stitch, clay or any other medium is a rare and unique piece of work. When you stop to think about it, it's pretty amazing isn't it?

Some artists I have spoken to in the past have broken down their pricing and discover they are earning way below the minimum wage when calculating their costs on an hourly basis. They've been shocked by this and it is shocking...you wouldn't expect anyone else to work for less that that, so why would anyone expect an artist to do so?

I think it would be lovely if there were more support for artists and creatives. People such as our Education Secretary don't exactly help when they suggest that choosing art is a future of limited career choices- what belittling rubbish! Imagine a world without art, without colour...imagine a world without the possibility of illustration, photography, paintings, ceramics, greetings cards, wallpaper, textile and pattern design...oh the list is endless! Lets be honest, it would be a dull old place without it, wouldn't it?

What you might not know about being an artist

noreply@blogger.com (Julia) — Fri, 03 Jul 2015 09:29:00 +0000

I used to think that artists were very glamorous, bohemian sorts who wafted through their days, painting leisurely, then meeting like minded souls for drinks where they would indulge in deep conversation about their work in crowded corners of fashionable coffee bars.

It seemed to me to be a utopia of all things I dreamed of; from the paint splashed artists smock one would naturally wear, to the inspired aura one would naturally exude. Their lives, to my young imagination, were a carousel of parties, laughter and a constant outpouring of creativity in messy studios...

...lets fast forward to the reality.

Being an artist is a fabulous job, don't doubt if for a minute. And if you harbour any desire or inclination to be one, and you've got a bit of talent or raw passion from which to start with then I urge you to study hard in your art classes at school and college, draw relentlessly and spend lots of time developing your own sweet style. To live in a world where you get to paint for a living, to earn an income from what you do (whilst sitting in your pajamas if you fancy) is rewarding on so many levels. I will never forget the buzz of the first sale, of my first international customer, of people actually liking what I did enough to buy it. This is stuff dreams are made of, right?

Yes.

And no.

There was a conversation that unfolded yesterday with an artist friend of mine, and it led me to write this post for you today. I wanted to lay bare the bones of this work, to tell you the hidden truths that we all live with, the difficult bits and what we do to overcome them.

There are times when you sit down, and an idea comes to mind and you sketch bits out and out of nowhere this fantastic feeling suffuses your very bones with delight - yes, this is it, you're onto a sure fire winner, you can feel it, you just know....and then you're off! Paints are squirted generously onto the pallette, the canvas, board or paper is struck with colour, your vision comes to life and its the best feeling in the world because when art flows, it really flows and there's nothing like it.

Then there are those times where it doesn't.

And you sit and you stare at the blank paper in front of you, and your mind whirrs relentlessly with chores and other mundane stuff you have to do, and there is this massive black hole where your imagination used to be that has seemingly gone on a vacation without telling you. There's nothing there. Nothing at all.

You scribble a bit in your sketch book...it looks terrible, its bloody awful. You start again on another page, no - its not happening. Then the frustration kicks in; the irritation is followed by anger sometimes and its not unusual at this stage to shove everything in a drawer and eat a packet of Jaffa Cakes instead.
You feel like you will NEVER be able to create another piece of work ever again! What will you do? How will you earn any money if you have nothing to paint? This feeling has reduced me to actual tears in the past, and no doubt will do again. You feel like giving up, you're clearly no good - what's the bloody point?!

Each painting, each piece of work, is a journey. It is fraught with emotion and feeling. An artist pours their entire heart and soul into a work, and the finished piece is infused with joy, love and happiness that the artist felt when they created it.

There are however, those pieces that lie unfinished at the back of a cupboard, something that started off well but suddenly felt like it was going wrong, so you leave it to come back to at a later date. I have done this before and sometimes this solution works fine. You come back to it with fresh eyes, see clearly what needs doing to make amends and so continue on the journey and finish your painting. Sometimes not even time can help, I have pictures half finished from years ago that for some reason I just haven't been able to part with. I know in my heart I will never finish them yet they are still here as reminders of something that didn't work out. I sometimes look at them and in all honesty I still don't have all the answers as to why. It's more of a feeling rather than a clear knowing.

When your mojo leaves town, when you feel like your number is up and its time to put away your artist's smock, I'd like to reassure you that it isn't. You will notice over time that there are seasons to your art. You will have fallow times and ripe, juicy times. There is a time to create and a time to be quiet and percolate ideas. It is part of the process, there is no forcing of this tender subject, and you will have to learn to roll with it. You will learn to handle the emotions it brings, you will learn to understand that the quiet parts are just as essential as the furious creative parts. You will know that it will make you angry at times and euphorically happy. You will learn that it's not just you, it's all of us.

Switch Off Time

noreply@blogger.com (Julia) — Tue, 02 Jun 2015 13:42:00 +0000

Half term saw us hurling down the M5 towards the lush green hills, valleys and coastline of South Devon for a camping trip with friends. Before we left, I had pondered the possibility of charging up the ever present phone using the car charger in order to Be Connected, but then I stopped. Do I really need a phone? Do I really need to keep in touch with the outside world? Would it hurt to just NOT for a few days?

What would it be like to really switch off for five days? No internet trawling, no Facebook, no Tweets, and absolutely no Instagramming of exciting random stuff?

Lets do this, I thought. Let's get back to real life for a bit.

So, I switched off and we went to Exeter for a night, to wander around my old home town streets, and to catch up with some sorely missed, and well loved friends.

There was a bit of an itch going on at first, that habitual knee-jerk reaction to check messages, emails, play Scrabble, see what everyone was doing on social media....but it passed pretty quickly to be honest, and by the time we were in the sunny field pitching the tent with our friends, I actually forgot all about it and concentrated on lending a hand, talking and listening to the bird song and chatter of the children running about in the grass.

We took long walks through the dunes. All the wandering paths create a sense of wonderful anticipation because you know that inevitably they will lead you to the sea.

Ahhhh...and there. Stopping for a moment to listen to the breeze rushing through the grasses, a soft swishing sound accompanied by the call of oyster catchers over on the estuary to our left, and gulls crying high above the sea to our right. And nothing else.

A gentle, and steady feeling of peace and tranquility pervaded my bones. I took photographs on my camera instead of snapping happily away on my phone.

I became much more immersed in my surroundings. Instead of being constantly diverted by beeps and tweets and the insane urge to document every living moment, I started to tuly live those moments. There was a luxurious feeling of reality, of living life the way it used to be lived, before we all became gadget bound by technology.

I was a little surprised in a sense, because I had no idea that I had become so trapped by the various phones and pads I had in my life. I was also amused.

When you allow yourself to switch off, you slow down. You really do. You stop caring what people are having for tea or finding the need to photograph your food. You don't think about the latest trending hashtag and how many Likes you have on your Facebook Page. You stop wondering about emails - they can all wait, we're on holiday - and you just start being more present. Switching off is like a meditation, but better.

I had better conversations without the distractions, I felt happier, I felt more peaceful and more connected with my actual life than I have done in ages.

We went to Dartmouth and spent a delightful few hours on the beach at Blackpool Sands. The water here is like crystal - we sat by the edge of the sea and listened to the rhythmical shushing sounds as it gently pushed and pulled its waves over the shingle shore.

We drove to Dartmouth town afterwards for ice-cream and a wander around the lovely little shops and streets. Dartmouth is very, very beautiful and the River Dart is chocablock with sailing boats; the rigging tinkles and snaps in the wind, such a magical sound which I associate with memories of living on the coast. The river mouth eventually opens out to the sea, and either side of this pretty waterway is clustered with pastel coloured cottages and houses among the trees.

There are two ferries too, to take you back and forth across the river, and the Steam Train still runs along its scenic track.

One of the lovely finds in Dartmouth is Baxter's Gallery. Our visit coincided with their Spring exhibition - it was good to see some work by friends of mine on show, including Andrea Berry, Janet Bell and Kirsty Elson amidst all the other wonderful pieces by talented artists and makers!

After admiring the art work and having a nice chat with the gallery owner, Sarah, we left to have a final wander about the town before returning home to camp.

After five days of fresh air, sleeping under the stars and waking with the dawn chorus and excited children, we reluctantly packed up and set off for home.

Here are a few things I absolutely adore about camping and escaping technology:

It being OK to wander around a field in your pyjamas with strangers and nobody bats an eyelid.

Cooking outside - Rob rustled up some beautiful fresh sea bass on the BBQ which we enjoyed with new potatoes and crunchy salad. Food tastes immense outdoors on a warm sunny evening!

Keeping it simple. Paring back on things we use everyday at home and just going with the basics - soap, flannel, toothbrush, pillow, sleeping bag....

Drifting off to sleep listening to a lonely owl hooting in the woods.

Being outside at 11pm and seeing millions of stars in a clear, navy blue sky.

Talking and connecting in real life, with real people.

Feeling relaxed and happy.

Have you ever taken a break from technology? How did you find it? Did you like it? Why not share your experiences here in the comments? I will definitely do it again, and it's made me more aware of how much time I spend using computers and phones etc. I plan to figure in more time to switch off at home on a regular basis, just to reconnect and be still again.

Ten Things

noreply@blogger.com (Julia Crossland Art) — Tue, 19 May 2015 12:54:00 +0000

1. Bluebell woods in Spring are the most happy, smile inducing places to be.

2. Letting our newly hatched Painted Ladies into the wild one early morning...well, trying to. This one hung about for ages sitting on my daughter's hand.

3. The sea. In particularly, our beautiful Yorkshire coastline on a sunshiney day.

4. Watching the gannets at Bempton Cliffs, and being awed by their enormous size and their cliff side habitats. We also spotted puffins, razor bills, kittiwakes and fulmars.

5. Seeing my newest original paintings hanging in the very lovely Art House Cafe, at Penistone.

6. Sleeping. I do absolutely love going to bed with a good book, and settling down in this comfy nest of warmth. Currently enjoying the latest Inspector Montalbano novel, and as I've almost finished this, I'll be looking forward to a Jenny Colgan next.

7. Bits and Bobs. I'm a bit of a lover of pretty things. I have filled my house with them, bearing in mind the famous saying by William Morris which went along the lines of ~ Have nothing in your home that you do not consider to be useful or beautiful. It may not all be useful, but it brings great pleasure to surround oneself with pretty tat.

8. Drying washing outside. That pure, sunshiney, breezy scent that infuses your laundry and that you just wish you could bottle and keep all year round. This may be a sign of getting older, but I never fail to have a small moment of rapture upon gathering in my washing after a drying day.

9. Getting organised. After a very busy few weeks preparing for the exhibition with Hen's Teeth, I am now making headway with my paperwork and updating my website with prints and such like that have for too long languished by my desk, pleading to be put on sale. 'We're not much good stuck under here now are we?' they taunt. So, I've done them the kindness of listing them in my shop. Oh, and I've also done my accounts in record time this year. Go me!

Seriously, you have no idea what a chore this is! One day I would like very much to have a wonderful assistant who can help me wade through this side of running a business.

10. These two. My dearests; my other half and my little dot of a daughter. Life would be pretty pants without them.

New work and an Exhibition

noreply@blogger.com (Julia) — Wed, 29 Apr 2015 13:21:00 +0000

Just dropping in to say a quick Hello as you might have been thinking it had gone a little quiet around here. The reason for this is that I'm creating some new pieces for a local exhibition I'm going to be part of, in collaboration with Hen's Teeth Arts & Crafts Group. It's over in Penistone, which is not too far from me and a lovely wee place to wander around.

If you would like to see my new paintings, you will find them at The Art House Cafe, Deli and Gallery by the church from the 11th May. It's a great place to meet up for coffee and cake with friends, the food is great and the staff are fabulously friendly and accomodating, so well worth a visit if just to sample their goodies!

The piece above is my latest work, it's called 'Yorkshire Tea' and symbolises everything that I remember from a family teatime in my Sheffield home. I'm sure any local people reading this will recognise a few familiar and nostalgic items on the table (didn't everyone in Sheffield have Hendersons Relish on the table and a copy of the The Star newspaper come teatime?).

There are a few more works like this on the cards, I'm thoroughly enjoying them, and hope you like them too.

By the Sea

noreply@blogger.com (Julia) — Wed, 15 Apr 2015 10:17:00 +0000

It was a tad last minute, but we decided to book a few days away in Norfolk, which coincided nicely with my family all being together in Suffolk at my sisters house, so a big get together was on the cards (which doesn't happen all that often due to the distance between us).

Our hotel was on the beautiful Norfolk Broads, and as soon as we arrived you could feel the tranquility of the place seep into your soul. Relaxing by the water with a glass of chilled wine was a wonderful tonic that first evening, whilst watching the birds and the boats going about their slow, leisurely business.

Our first full day there was spent with my family, and we went to the beach at Gorleston, near Yarmouth. A bracing walk was had, we spotted a seal and watched the boats on the horizon. It was a slow and happy day that ended with a delicious meal at The Bell Inn, highly recommended if you are in the area visiting, it's a beautiful old building that is right on the waterside with a lovely garden to enjoy in the summer.

Those of you who follow my blog will perhaps already know that I am a landlocked soul, who frequently must be by the ocean. Lucky for us, we dont live all that far from our pretty Yorkshire coastline and will sometimes just bob off for the day to get some of that fresh, salty sea air in our lungs. It definitely clears the mind and refreshes the spirit. There is something so calming when one is stood at the seashore with only the sounds of nature about you and the hiss of the foamy waves moving through the pebbles on the sand.

Our daughter enjoyed the freedom of the beach too, running along ahead of us with the wind streaming in her hair. Oh to be seven years old, with not a care in the world! Meanwhile, as we strolled at a slower pace, we enjoyed the bright shot of colour from a row of cheery beach huts and the sight of the old Southwold Pier.

So many lovely things to see, so many pops of colour and inspiration!

Walking about does create a bit of an appetite it must be said, especially when there is an icy gale blowing in off the North Sea and buffeting you about like a skittle. Feeling most windswept and interesting we took ourselves off to a sheltered corner at the cafe on the boating lake, and some much needed refreshement.

I cannot begin to describe how delicious that lemon cake was, and the coffee was just lovely too! Isn't it nice to find such a welcoming place, where the cakes are home baked and the view is just right and you're in a sunny corner sitting in a chair with many soft cushions? I could happily have stayed there all day.

Alas, time got the better of us and we returned north to Yorkshire, where we began settling into our old routine again, albeit slowly and reluctantly. School has started, and we begrudgingly set the alarm again. I am now filling my days working on some new paintings, and enjoying the warmer days pottering in our little garden.

The cherry blossom had opened while we were away. We planted this when I found out I was expecting our little girl, so the tree has grown along with her. What a picture it is too, it's fragile, soft pink flowers attracting all manner of bees. It's very nice to sit by the water, listening to the rush of the river over the stones and the hum of the bees above. As I type this, the wind is sending swirls of blossom across the garden like confetti, it looks rather festive. I like the fleeting beauty of the blossom though, a gentle reminder that nothing stays the same, everything is always changing, evolving, growing.

Just like us.