Goodbye Sweet Gucci

The eucalyptus tree was not all we lost in June - two days before that we had to say goodbye to our beloved dog, "the oldest weimeraner known to man" as a vet friend of my daughter's said. I haven't been able to bring myself to post this up till now, but I want to commemorate a beautiful, brave, naughty and irrepressible part of our home for the past 16 and a half years. 

Our son, now 23 was 7 when he came into our lives - a silky blue-eyed pup who immediately recognised me as 'mom' and curled up on my lap to sleep after exhausting himself playing with the kids. Anyone on the floor was fair game to be chewed, rolled-over onto (head over heels, not sideways) and determinedly edged away from the heater, while he was a willing pillow for weary or TV watching heads once he had worn himself out. 

He was wild - crazy - we could have done with the Dog Whisperer's help throughout his uncontrollable life. I have scars from where he yanked me down steps to launch himself at the meter-man, or the postman or the sandwich men ringing at the gate. So much for 'Foods you Must Never give your Dog' - he helped himself to avocados that dropped off the tree next door, unripe plums within his reach, entire chocolate Easter egg stashes, fillet roasts, anything whatsoever edible (except peppers and chilli) that he could reach when standing on his bandy back legs. Doors were no obstacle unless they were locked - he opened them in- or outwards and preferred them all open, come rain, shine or freezing wind.

When our daughter brought a kitten home, we were quite sure that she would be swallowed whole in an exuberant gulp and kept watch to make sure she didn't wander into 'Orc' territory - till one day our vigilance slipped and we rushed, panicking, to find the kitten contentedly tucked under a bemused Gucci's chin - where she more or less stayed, in innumerable yin-and-yang poses for the rest of his days (she shows remarkable, cat-like unconcern about his sudden absence, though perhaps slightly more affectionate towards her humans lately). While rats, strange cats and hadedas were in great danger if spotted, and he refused to ever give back a ball thrown for him - when my son's pet rat's many babies all escaped into the garden, he gently retrieved every single one without so much as a bruise and brought them to us to put back into the cage.

He was my constant companion unless his adored 'dad' was home when he was the preferred target for underfoot and in-your-face attention. As I do the most mundane things now his image rises before me - sweeping, nobody trudging doggedly through the dust pile - vacuuming the floors, no one lying hopefully in my path wanting a vacuum-massage - eating an apple, no one behind to toss the core to (the Best Catcher in the World) - the ways to miss him are many and painful, but we are so grateful that he was ours. RIP dearest Gooch.

12.12.12

Well, I haven't got much to show, what with a small deluge of work coming in - just in time to go shopping :-), some very wet weather and preparations for the festive season. But I can't let the 12th of the 12th, 2012 go by without posting something, it's not going to come around again, certainly in my lifetime. So some sketches from earlier in the year of our dear 15-year old Weimeraner, Gucci and his biggest fan, Kenzo (although she happily and possessively hogs the whole bed if he's too slow getting there). I could draw endless combinations of the positions they get themselves into, as I think I've said before - yes, here, here  and so long ago - 2007! - here . When I look back at those, I do believe... yes, I think I have got a bit better at drawing the pets. Progress!

A Home to remember

One of our regular Joburg Sketchers, Barbara, invited us to her home yesterday, for a delicious tea and to sketch features of the lovely old house in which the family has lived happily for 30 years, and which is now on the market as they prepare to move into a new stage of life. Barbara is going to make a journal and sketchbook of the history and memories of their time there, and thought a sketching session by our group would get it off to a good start - we'll send her digital copies which she can print and put in the album. The house is full of beautifully crafted details from its early days, as well as modern open spaces that made it a very happy and welcoming home.

I started with the armchairs around the fireplace with an impressive brass collection on the mantelpiece, that must have overheard many an interesting discussion over sherry on cold winter's nights - and then to one of the lovely bevelled glass leaded windows (top) hosting a collection of wooden birds.

Barbara's little terrier caught my eye, basking in the sunlight coming through another window. I had to get her down quickly first before moving on to the surroundings as I knew she wouldn't stay there long - and she didn't, as soon as she realised she was being stared at.

John set up his easel and did an oil painting of the outside cottage. As I said before, Joburg is emptying out for the holidays, so only four of us got there - but hope it gets the ball rolling for the special record this journal will be.

A Horror Story (true)

Let me introduce you to one of Joburg's creepier residents. The King Cricket, I believe originally a native of New Zealand that snuck into the country in a consignment of building sand, made itself at home and multiplied, greatly. It first reared its nodding little head in numbers in a suburb called Parktown, hence it's local name, the Parktown Prawn. This guy, the first I've seen now for some years, I found yesterday drowned in our swimming pool, a much more appealing discovery than some of the places P.P's have cropped up in days gone by.

In our previous house, we suffered a plague of them. They appeared climbing up curtains, grinding along your pillow, in every corner of every room, and worst of all, the telltale brown whiskers - if you were lucky - waved at you from under the rim of the toilet, warning you not to take that particular seat at that time. The shreiks and squeals they generated were quite out of proportion to their size, though their size, for an insect, is enormous - a bit bigger than how they appear on this page. The thought of their heavy, spiney bodies near your hair or neck or children was too awful to contemplate and the rasping military sound they made as they marched across the carpet could wake me from the deepest sleep to save my family from the beast.

A delightful trait it has when you try to corner or capture it, as soon as it becomes aware of your intentions, is to leap lumpily about, usually in your general direction and squirt a stream of foul-smelling black liquid from its rear end. The only way to catch it is to creep up from behind and grab one of its back legs - we had a special pair of long 'Prawn Tongs' for this purpose - which it somehow seemed oblivious to as you carried it gingerly to the loo and made triply sure it was well and truly flushed away - with a dose of Harpic for good measure.

The good news is, that just when we and all of Joburg were reaching hysteria about the Prawn problem, along came the Hadeda Ibises, flying in like avenging angels from the Eastern Cape. They found the P.P's delectable and gobbled and gobbled until now - a hapless prawn in the swimming pool is an oddity and becomes the subject of some detached sketching and reminiscing. Thank you dear big birds, your 4.30am siren call is forgiven.

Jozi Jaunts

Copyright Cathy Gatland
Copyright Cathy Gatland Copyright Cathy Gatland
Here are the results of a week's hard labour! Delivered to my friend and art promoter this morning to be yayed or nayed by her client. They are bright, busy and brash but I think they fit the bill - looking forward to a little breather now, take some time to smell the heavenly spring blossoms infiltrating the air, and perhaps in a day or two, paint one or two of them..!
(I have rather sheepishly put the copyright thingy under these, as they are a commercial commission, just in case! I should try and be a bit more professional about stuff)

That darned cat

I'm busy painting something very hard... eggshells on a white plate...why? why? But in the meantime here is a sketch of our devoted-to-each-other cat and dog that I did a few evenings ago. This is what I wrote on the page...
I'm not good at drawing animals...I absolutely love my pets but just don't get excited about rendering them on paper. But sometimes they are the only available models, so here they are again - Gucci-dog being good and still, and Kenzo-cat being devilish. She seemed to challenge me as I drew - if I was doing her eyes, she closed them, if her head, she licked herself, her paws, she stretched them, her tail, she flicked it, all the while staring at me and saying, "Draw THAT, sucker!"

White azaleas

I should have been ironing, but it's a beautiful day and the white azalea bush is in full bloom, so I thought I'd carry on with the quest to learn to paint white subjects in watercolour. I had to do quick sketches in my accordian sketchbook, as, really, it's piling up into a huge mountain (the washing). What I think I learnt from these two - the first rather carefully done with much concentration and squinting, the second dashed off while waiting for the washes on the first to dry - is, not to squint and concentrate so hard...I prefer the second one...and fewer but larger areas, or shapes, of pure white ie. the paper, seems to produce more of the clean, sunlit look I'm after. I still have to work on the subtle colour changes within the white, and tone and shadow and some more soft edges... The dog felt it beholden upon him to bark and wildly chase after everyone who walked past our front gate, near which I was sitting on an upturned bucket, so any interesting textural effects are from him kicking up sand into my palette.

Cook Tribute

There is a fun thing happening over about.painting... A Tribute to Beryl Cook forum discussion where everyone is invited to submit a self-portrait 'in the spirit of ...if not the style of.... Beryl Cook'. A fitting way to honour an artist who gave so much fun to so many, I think. My mind immediately started skipping around, and after some false starts, I came up with this double portrait of my husband and me - a typical evening scene at home, and a title with a double-meaning... thanks to his excellent cooking skills and enthusiasm, I can indulge more in my favourite pasttime... I thought I gave ourselves Beryl-esque proportions, but think I could have gone even chunkier than I have. You really appreciate the skills of another artist when trying to follow their style - in spite of fairly simple looking paintings, her attention to detail was amazing.

Candle night

Another power-less evening last night, our national provider exercising it's 'load-shedding' programme to try and save energy until new power plants are built - in 8 years or so! I have to say, it is surprisingly pleasant to be forced to have no TV, no computer, lights or music. We are, though, grateful to have a gas hob to cook on, and are a bit anxious about the fast approaching winter and the prospect of heaterless nights. We do have blankets, beds, jackets and roofs over our heads though, unlike many, so won't complain too loudly.
So we cooked and chatted and did the crossword by candlelight - and delighted in small things like this mini skyscraper - a candle in the grater, reflected in the granite, and perfect images of the candle flame thrown onto the cupboard doors through my glasses. As we got into bed - early - the power came back and it felt like all hell broke loose. Alarms screamed, TVs crackled and spat, computer pinged and re-booted, fridge hummed - our soporific mood was rudely snuffed out. Back to civilisation.

Sunday sketches

I wrote a post about my dog, Gucci and cat, Kenzo way way back, in which I tried to explain the ineptness of my drawing, by saying that Kenzo DID have a flopped-over ear, really, it wasn't just that I couldn't fit it on the page... then recently, it dawned on me that her ear was quite alright again, and was standing up as cat's ears should. I thought no more about it until an article in the Sunday Times by someone whose cat suddenly developed a flopped-over ear. Googling the malady, as one does, alarmed him so much that he whisked her off to the vet post haste. The vet revealed that after a number of similiar cases in the Johannesburg area, they had been, as a profession, puzzled and without diagnosis. Until one day, a client reported witnessing his cat returning from her nocturnal patrols, over their electric-fenced boundary wall. Her ear touched one of the wires, yowling and indignant, she flew into his kitchen window, sporting a newly flopped-over ear... which, after the nerves had recovered from their assault, righted itself in due time. Such are the perils of a pet in this city...
This is Gucci the weimeraner's stock position whenever we are on our verandah, braaing (barbequeing in case anyone still hasn't heard the SA term yet...), usually on a Sunday. He lies in exactly the same spot, facing the same North-Westerly direction and stares intently into the far distance, until we move inside. We've speculated that perhaps he's hearing the ancient call of his wolverine ancestors up there in Canada, or the howl of a Namibian jackal, or maybe he just saw a rat or lizard disappear into that corner of the garden once and is waiting for it to pop out again, this time he'll be ready... who knows what goes on in a dog's head?

This is my husband BFG - doing some handyman work and relaxing with the paper while the boerewors sizzles on the fire.

Darkest Africa

A messy sketch of a messy situation (I made it worse here by adding colour) - daily, sometimes twice daily 2-3 hour powercuts are wreaking havoc with business, traffic and most alarmingly so far, the gold and platinum mine and steel industries, which can't risk sending miners underground in case of emergencies where they'd need to be brought up again in a hurry. So they all closed down for a couple of days last week - back up now, I believe, which means power 'load-shedding' as they call it for the rest of the country. This is the future for the next 5-8 years we've been told. Better post this before it goes again...

Leaving home again

Our firstborn 'little' daughter left for Dubai yesterday, to start a new, amazingly grown-up sounding job as supervisor in a couture design studio. It's strange how when they're at home for any length of time, at the great age of 26/7, you start muttering about how they should really be independent and leading their own lives... and when they DO, all you can think of is this small, delicate, innocent child that (surely) badly needs your protection, and advice, and constant presence to show them the ropes. BUT, I really know it will be good, and she will be a better more rounded person for it, and she's way, way braver than I ever was... Bon Voyage, little Pie!!!

Nostalgia trip

After looking at Adam's lovely drawings of his children, I decided to have a scratch around in my 'files' to look for the very few sketches I did of my children, way back when. They are faded and yellowing and I swear it was just the other day I drew them! These are of my son at 4 months and just 3, watching TV and eating breakfast - as Adam says, one of the few times, besides sleeping, that they are still enough to capture on paper. I didn't ever draw my eldest and first as a baby - I think I spent most of her babyhood just staring at her in awe. I know there's one somewhere of our baby 2nd daughter, and a few of them a bit older - I'll have to keep on scratching.

Walking the dog

A little group ambling along the pavement. Somebody wants to buy this one, plus one more, though she doesn't like the other 'street' paintings - not happy enough!? So I'll have to go and wander around with my camera and sketchbook to find some pleasant scenes. She is emigrating, and wants to take some reminders of home with her - I think she's homesick already...
This 'sketch' blog seems to be turning into a painting one, but I am glad that at least it does seem to be working as far as mobilising me to paint - that, or the other art bloggers I read who all work so HARD and produce so much work!

Some of the family

Right. Must Do Better. I have not been sketching and journalling (but I have been painting and cleaning my house). Here are two oldish pages from my journal of my son Ali, and my eldest daughter Dominique, and one I did today (hooray) of my husband in his Saturday position - after he has made breakfast, done the shopping and fixed the pool of course. He is a good man!

Here we go

This is a little painting I did I while ago of koeksusters, a traditional South African/Afrikaans cake. I plan to do a 'Sketch in Time' as often as possible - a sketch in time saves nine... nine days or weeks or months - or years! - of regretting not putting it down at the moment. It almost seems too late to be starting this - babies have grown up and left home, holidays have come and gone, but I think until I have the hang of this blog thing, I will post some of the old stuff hanging around. At the moment, I can't see how I'll have the time to do daily(ish) sketches AND handle all this technology, but I guess I'll get used to it and become incredibly prolific.