I was inspired to do this after seeing a work in a Dk art book.This is about the relationship I had in the past with my doctors. Today, I have moved past the fighting and I work with these people.
I first bought some cheap soft pastels back in 2018 and did a couple of sketches. I bought a nice set of Rembrandt pastels a few months later — didn't use them. I bought some pastel pads, none if which seemed right. September 2020, I bought a couple more sets of bargain pastels and tried a couple of pieces — no good, still couldn't bring myself to use them. Jess bought me pastel pencils for Christmas — I was too scared to use them. I even bought a pad of Pastelmat which is supposed to be THE paper to use for pastel paintings in January. I was too scared to use that as well!
FINALLY, after a few unsuccessful attempts at working with watercolour (brush issues), I cast aside my fear and thought I'd mess around with pastels. Some time later, and this was the result. I've finally broken through my pastel fear-barrier.
I've got to say, I love soft pastels and I'm excited about doing more pieces in this medium.
Seahorse are of the genus Hippocampus, from the Ancient Greek, hippos meaning "horse" and kampos meaning "sea monster". Seahorses are not great swimmers so they spend a lot of time with their tail wrapped around stationery objects.
“Claire!” Elle woke up with her daughter’s name on her lips. Startled, she sat up and looked around the living room with her heart still beating loudly in her chest. A dream, she realized dazedly.
Slowly, she crossed the way to the back door. With unseeing eyes she gazed out into the garden.
She remembered waking up in the hospital six years ago and seeing her husband sitting next to her. She remembered how he took her hand into his and looked at her with eyes full of despair. He told her that the doctor thought Claire might not survive. That she might die before she was even born, die before she had a chance to look into her mum’s eyes, feel a kiss on her forehead, clench her little fist around her dad’s finger, hear them speaking to her without a belly barrier between them… It was a silent, terrible death. It was the death of someone so precious, so innocent, so tiny…
Elle took a shuddering breath.
