Why I Never Drew My Babies.

Why I never drew my own children when they were babies.
To any mother the reason is obvious. Babies just squirm and cry and scream and feed and need their nappy changing, and you're so exhausted anyway so you don't pick up a pencil let alone a paint brush, and the only thing you want to do is sleep.... At least that was my experience of motherhood.

Mary Kemp.
Sketchbook drawings.

Now I am a grandmother, and the role is less all encompassing. No responsibility but a lot of pleasure.

Mary Kemp
Baby in mother's arms.

At the weekend my latest granddaughter, with parents, came to stay, only a month old, and her first sleeps away from home.

Mary Kemp.
Sketchbook drawings.

To be honest I can't remember my children being so amenable.
But for the first time I got the chance to draw a baby. How can you depict such perfection? I keep harking back to Rembrandt's drawings and know I've got a way to go.

Autumn, 15 Years Ago.

Digging through my files I came across this image.

Mary Kemp.
French Jug
Oil on board
60 x 50 cm

I painted this 15 years ago at least, looking out of the kitchen window towards the studio. I notice that the huge bay tree, that now obscures my view, hasn't grown up yet, and the Virginia Creeper looks a bit sparse compared with today.
There's another thing that is quite different too. My painting style has changed considerably from those days. Then it was very precise. I planned each mark, and used very little texture on the surface. I was aiming for flat and smooth. A painting like this would take me about a month to achieve. I spent a lot of time painting the shadows, quite enjoying it and the changes of colour within them.

But things move on, I don't paint the garden so much, and people creep into my art.

Mary Kemp
Beach Walk
Man and Dog
Oil on canvas panel
30 x 30 cm