a completed picture of columbia road market

After much aggravation in the initial drawing stage I have finally completed the painting of Columbia Road Market. It was a challenge to do and took much longer than I first anticipated. I just kept adding figures. The last being the small girl in the front. I also had to redo the shadows below the figures three or times. I got there in the end.

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staycation

We had one of those notorious “staycations”. Camping in Yorkshire. The campsite was in Glaisdale, this being a tiny village in the nook of the North Yorkshire moors. I say campsite. Really it was just a small patchwork of fields huddled around a few stone built farm buildings.

It is ruled by well meaning octogenarian martinet. She had festooned the whole site with impromptu signage warning that you transgress at your peril. It was everywhere. Everything had a sign, with a punishment to match.

She spotted me sketching and I was cornered. Once she was satisfied I was not checking up on her from the council I was marched into the house to see her dads drawings. After the tour was complete she insisted on showing me what she was most proud of. Even more than dads drawings! A framed certificate which was presented for winning a gooseberry competition. On closer inspection I noticed it was dated. Dated 1944! I could help feeling a little scared.

After escapingI painted a picture of nearby Robin Hoods Bay.Lovely place too.

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a sketch of columbia road

I am currently battling away with a painting of Columbia road flower market. I say battling because when the market is open it is utter mayhem.

A virtual 80’s trading floor at the summit of a black Wednesday. There are great eddying tides of people heavy with boxes of plants and flowers elbowing each other out of the way. I found it impossible to stay in a steady position. And ended up getting bellowed by a so called ‘Yummy Mummy’ with three children and told to ‘Get out of the fucking way!’. Charming!

I have finally decided to cheat. I went to the market on a day it was closed and worked in the buildings. I moved the odd warehouse around a little for composition sake. It was bliss. I did however have to go back to sketch in the people and the stalls. This I achieved by jamming myself into doorways and in the gaps in between each plot, avoiding all irate parents. I eventually escaped with what I wanted.

The oil painting seems to be coming on. I have painted the street with serenity rather than the floral rugby scrum it actually is. The bloody memory is too brutal.

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