Arts Portfolio

Since the new design of Voodoochilli.net we no longer have a place for the old e-zine, VoodooNews. I thought this might be a nice place to archive it for anyone still interested in giving it a read. Click on the links below to download.

Issue 9 September 2006
Issue 9 is our first quarterly newsletter and therefore has a lot more in it! 25 pages pack full of news, information and all kinds of fun and interesting stuff, this issue is definitely worth a read.

* Art Winstanley’s article, "Blockbusters" gives advice on how to get beyond a creative block.
* We have showcased all of the past news image of the months since July.
* Harry O’Connor’s "My Top 10 Websites" gives a personal insight into various sites around the world.
* Poetry slam has 4 poems from voodoochilli members

Plus all of the usual features

Voodoochilli Art Newsletter Issue 8
IT’S ABOUT TIME!
In our first anniversary issue, VoodooNews, Issue 8 watches the clock.

"Tempus Fugit" weighs how and why we measure the passage of time against how we spend it.

"Where will we be in 12 months’ time" demonstrates how, in the hands of a skilled webmaster, time based statistics can draw from the past to actualise the present and project the future of our internet community.

We’re introducing a feature series of cartoons called "Instant Calmer", "fester aka" is our featured artist of the month and "artman’s alphabet" if out to the letter H.

"Who’s new looks at the artwork of 4 of our newer member and see "community news" for an opportunity to join the VoodooNews Publishing Team.

Continue Reading »

After posting my article, it seems that being hit by lightning seemed to get some of you excited. I didn’t go into detail in the article so here’s my story.

That day, 18th August 2002, a bright, bright, sunny day, I’d helped a friend put concrete floors in his house and came home feeling totally shattered. I was alone at the time, my husband being in Vienna and my son was in the UK. I decided to get straight in the bath and have a good soak. I got into my pyjamas and went to the kitchen to put yesterday’s leftover dinner in the microwave. Whilst it was heating, I went into the living room to say make a fuss of the cat. I was leaning against the corner of the wall, cat over my shoulder, when there was the most incredible explosion. I found myself hurled 10 meters to the other side of the room. As I lay there motionless for several seconds, I began to smell an acrid smell and adrenaline kicked in. I leapt to my feet, grabbed the house phone and my mobile, shut the door behind me, into the hallway which was full of smoke and left the house. I ran, bare feet, still in my pyjamas, 300 meters down my gravel drive and shouted for my neighbour across the road, all the time trying desperately to phone the fire brigade. My neighbour appeared very quickly and ran back with me. He opened the front door to have a look, saw the smoke and told me that we must stay outside. Not that I could hear anything, the explosion had made me totally deaf. I was frantic at this point, not only was I deaf but my two budgies were in there and my cat was missing. Continue Reading »

Ok, a bit of a weird title. You might even say it’s pretentious or trying to be “arty”. Well I guess this is an “arty” site so I can probably get away with it, but the reality is this subject is something I have thought about and written about previously. Before I studied illustration I did a year of an animation degree in Newport, Wales. It probably wasn’t the best course for me, I had a great time but I didn’t work that hard and I don’t think the tutors liked me. I believe this because of the way they talked to me and the fact that I would sometimes get lower marks than other people even on joint projects where we did the work together.

One project in particular was a short film about four types of music. Another student and I thought up four genres of music between us, one of the genres I choose was hip-hop/rap, something I was really into at the time. I think the final film was quite good, but they questioned the fact that the hip-hop piece was about gangsters, guns and violence. I responded that this was what the music was about, but I was told it wasn’t and that not only was I typecasting but I was being racist. This is quite simply not true, I am not a racist and I am deeply apposed to racism in all of its forms.

Continue Reading »

A gathering of Authors congregated to celebrate Shakespeare’s birthday at the Great Hall, King’s College, London, yesterday. It was well attended with Authors of all genres, novelists, poets, writer’s of business manuals and crime. A good evening was had by all as we voiced our opinions, listened to a reading by the Poet Laureate, drank endless amounts of champagne and generally got to know one another, so much so that I have been invited to fellow authors book signings.

Its 7.58 am on a Saturday. Normally I like to have a lie in on a Saturday to get some rest for the week ahead. But today, like yesterday I am up before 7 as I am waiting for a delivery. I hate waiting for things, but above all I really hate waiting for deliveries. You see the postal service around here is crazy! They just pop round when they feel like it, and you can guarantee they will try to deliver your parcel the moment you walk away from the front door as you need to go to the toilet or get a drink. It’s as if they know.

Ok, I am in full on moan mode. Its something I have to do now and then to let off some steam (many members from the Voodoochilli forum will know this). But there is a reason I am moaning here and writing it down. When I studied illustration often we were set specific projects to illustrate, for example they might have said we had to do a 3 piece triptych based on communicating an idea taken from a topical piece of news. These sorts of projects were relatively easy to get your head around and were reserved mostly for the first and second years of study. The third year however was based on self directed study, meaning that we would have to find our own subjects and inspiration to work on. I happened to be interested in outsider art and mental illness and it made great material to work with, and nearly everyone picked subjects that somehow related to their own interests. We essentially illustrated ourselves. Continue Reading »

A friend of mine, Trevor Morris, writes articles for the Dorset Echo. He lives here in France and has written articles almost weekly about the trials, tribulations and joys of living in France. He puts a very humouristic slant on everything, including my art! He intends putting all of these articles in a book and this will be published in the next couple of months. He has written the following article about artists in France in general but includes information about me. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Cathy Savels, www.cathysavels.com

Not so long ago, wealthy families who cast out their black sheep put them on a ship France. Once the ne’er-do-well landed he would make his way to Paris, find himself a garret, buy a set of paintbrushes, and starve to death. Well, in fact it would be a race to see whether the starvation would get to him before the absinthe had a chance to rot away his brain and disintegrate his vital organs.

This was all very noble. It got rid of unwanted relatives, kept a few backstreet cafes in business, and even produced the odd bit of artwork into the bargain. Things have changed. It seems that you no longer have to come from a fabulously wealthy background to become an artist. Anybody can do it, even the working classes. One thing has not changed. They still come to France. Continue Reading »

SaraJane, my enthusiastic upstairs neighbor on this beautiful block in paradise, came by not so very long ago, to tell me that the Miami Dolphins and Kansas City Chiefs where playing their season football game on local television. Now, I like Sara (without an H). She’s bright, funny and a bundle of preoccupied positive energy. So I reminded her, as gently as I knew how, that Baseball - not Football, was my sport of choice and that, in either case, I didn’t watch T.V. anymore.

She gave me the same puzzled look that I get from everyone in my world who finds out that the “boob-tube” isn’t part of life’s equation
for me.
After all, this is America!. . . land of the formerly free and home of the “you’re supposed to have one of everything Walmart sells” mentality. Continue Reading »

After months of not being seen out and about in the southernmost city, I found my way down to happy hour at my neighborhood watering hole. Taking my seat on a stool beside my old friends Captain Finbar and Harry the Dutchman, bartender Angus cracked open a round cold ones and commented on my absence, “hey man, haven’t seen you around much lately! Got yourself a new woman?” Without answering, I took a long slow serious swallow of what was my first cold draft in ages. The Captain and the Dutchman just looked at each other, shrugged and shook their heads. The lovely Smithers, not a shy girl and also working behind the bar, reminded Angus, in her most braggadocios brogue, “That boy’s got no time for a new woman, he’s been living with his art!”

The bar went so quiet we could hear Finbar’s gold tooth fall from his agape mouth into his rum and coke. It was true! I knew it and so did most of the big dogs around the outdoor waterfront bar. I was shacked up and hell-bent for who knew what. Angus served up another round and as we all sat around drinking, talking and listening to Moose play the blues onstage, the sun sank into the sea. Soon enough, I was feeling my Mexican toilet water with lime, singing along, smiling and feeling, as always, at home. But in the back of my head, that little voice kept whispering, “you ought to get back”. I couldn’t refuse the urgent urgings, “you’ve been away too long”. I slammed back my last mouthful, quietly slid from my stool and skulked back down the boardwalk toward my studio. Continue Reading »

We have a few contributors to the site now, all from different professional and creative areas. Although I have spent much of my life studying Art and Design and hold an Illustration degree, I would no longer consider myself an artist. I prefer the term “creative person”. I work primarily in web design and development so there’s a mixture of visual designing, Photoshopping and programming. I would say that although there is a delicate balance for a web designer between creative and technical, as far as most artists are concerned I am more technical than anything else.

The reason I say all of this is because I am going to talk about something that may at first sound like a technical matter, after all the title has got numbers in it. The internet is not only a tool for artists allowing them to communicate with other creatives and show their work off, but it is quickly becoming an important part of life. Creative people especially benefit from learning about the things around them which they can then harness and use within their work. Continue Reading »

Art and Compulsion, article by Janet Stead, Saturday, 31 March 2007

I recently attended a discussion on the subject of Art and Compulsion. Several speakers were there including, a Psychiatrist and several Artists.

Art is a very personal thing, for me it has been a way of expressing unspoken word, about something I found difficult to verbalise. A sanctuary or refuge for certain points in my life, where I have felt driven to either write about an experience or paint something that expressed the way I felt. Strangely, it has also made me feel vulnerable, although the compulsion has never diminished. As a young person, I remember the horror on my mother’s face when I painted a portrait of my grandmother, who had been hospitalised suffering with Dementia. I had no idea of the concerns it raised within my immediate family. My uncle, also an artist, was particularly concerned about an oil painting I did in the 1970’s of a young child being blown apart by a bomb and it took him a number of years before, he asked to see it again. Interestingly, all those years later, his view had changed and he commended me for being able to put so much emotion into a painting. That was quite an accolade by someone I respected as a landscape artist. But my views were based on the way I see art, I remember the endless hours spent walking around art galleries and whilst those who accompanied me became bored, I just became inspired, struck in awe and wonderment of those who had created such a beautiful and rich history. Never could a history book replace the living colours, I saw in those works. Continue Reading »