Going with the flow.

Some years ago I was engaged in a process of attempting to understand creative acts and my own creativity in particular. This was brought about by a need to find out more about what made me tick. Like many creative people I’m sure, I’ve often found myself wondering what exactly it was that I was good at why being unsure about it was making working life quite confusing and unrewarding. Coincidentally my partner was beginning to investigate the meaning of creativity around about the same time and through her own investigations introduced to me the concept of flow.

I had never come across this idea before but, very quickly I understood that it was something I’d encountered many times in both my professional and private life. Like many of these kinds of things it’s a very simple idea but people manage to write whole books about it. In simple terms the best way I can describe it is that it is primarily a state of mind.

 

Have you ever engaged in an activity and lost all track of time? Have you ever been so engrossed in something that you’ve not heard the telephone ring, or suddenly looked up from a task and wondered where the day went? Have you ever been so into making something that all problems encountered are easily solved and progress seems to just come naturally? Well, if any of these has happened to you then most likely you have been in flow.

 

Understanding this concept has helped me hugely in recognising what I like doing most in work and play. It has enabled me to make much more informed choices about what work to take on and why sometimes I feel like I’m flogging a dead horse.

 

This finished colour representation of the second of my printed out sketches onto watercolour paper emerged from a concentrated afternoon spent mostly in flow. I have no idea how long it really took, not that it matters, and I got so engrossed in it that the day just vanished in a blur of paints, brushes and water. Not having really done a full colour drawing like this for some time I threw myself into rediscovering how to get the paints to move around the painting and what happens when you put paint on a wetted surface and a dry surface. It sounds simple but I’ve found it’s easy to forget all of the little tricks one develops for oneself to get things looking how you want them. There are a couple of things not quite right with it, like needing more variance in my greys. But there are also some great things about it too. I’d forgotten how vibrant the liquid watercolours I use for some parts can be (Dr. Ph. Martin’s Radiant concentrated water colours, hopefully available at all good art shops worth their salt). The red for the tank really helps the image to jump off the page which is such a satisfying outcome, for me anyway. I’m attending the 50th birthday party for a very old friend this weekend and I’m so pleased with this image I think I’ll give it to him as a present. He’s a bit of a bike nut too, so here’s hoping he’ll like it.

 

The first sketch, with the mechanic behind the bike, is very nearly done too so I’ll post that up in a day or so. The bigger biro drawing of the big single cylinder cafe racer is coming along well to and will be here soon. Watch this space.

 

Keeping it up.

Strange effects courtesy of the scanner.

Prompted by my lovely niece Rose, who’s currently away in Germany on a working year for her language degree, todays post has some drawings in it. She quite rightly let me know that all the bike building stuff is all very well but, where are all the sketches etc that filled the blog when it started? I suppose I had got a bit engrossed in the bike build so, for Rose and all other fans of them here are a couple of drawings.

You will remember from previous posts that I was having trouble deciding on backgrounds for some of the images, I still am, it’s definitely becoming a work in progress though my inner self wishes I would just get on and resolve it once and for all. The reasons I’m posting this sketch are two-fold. Firstly I wanted to see how one of the drawings would turn out if I employed an old technique that I haven’t used for ages. Namely inking in the sketch with a very fine tipped felt pen and then gently “washing” over selected areas with a damp brush to create the shading I wanted. I was working just on some thin layout paper as this was a bit of an experiment. I had a feeling that the paper would warp with the moisture from the brush, but I ignored it. Then I put it in the scanner and this is the result, a kind of sunburst pattern around the drawing. I understand that it’s the result of how the light from the scanner falls and moves across the paper, but it’s a pleasant surprise that it creates this effect around the drawing but not across it. Interesting. Backgrounds by mistake, perhaps there is something in this, leaving things to a kind of creative serendipity.

This other drawing is one that I did a little while ago. Again, my sharing this one with you is to do with background again. here I tried to follow up on the idea that I create a partial background using a distinct part of the drawing, namely the smoke billowing out around the rear tyre. I’m not sure that it works that well as I don’t think I rendered the smoke particularly competently. It’s an idea I want to try again. I think I overdid the level of detail in the puffiness of the smoke, perhaps a simpler approach would work better. I do like however the way you can leave holes in the smog through which one can see parts of the bike and wheel. The only drawback to this is that it’s a lot of work to create a drawing that in the end doesn’t work. But that’s half the fun is it not, and we have to do these things in order to learn and move things forward.

So if we believe that we should try and learn something new every day, then today I’ve learned not to leave such big gaps between my sketch posts and that my funny old scanner has the capacity for unexpected creativity. Who would have thought it?

Every once in a while.

Today I was going to post about the next phase of metal bashing for the 250 build but, I’ve changed my mind following a visit to the Ace Cafe yesterday. It was another sunny Sunday in a chain of bright spring weather we’re having here in London, and a short spin up the road was called for. As it happened it was Italian Bike Day at the Ace and I decided to drop in on my way to nowhere in particular and back. I’m glad I did as there is almost always something to be seen up at the cafe that stirs the soul.

I’ve always tried to avoid the temptation, and will continue to resist it, to turn the blog into an endless catalogue of images of stuff that interests me without much comment. There are plenty of those around already for our delectation. But yesterday I was prompted to think that on occasion, when I come across something on my travels that catches my eye I’ll reach for the camera and share it with my readers. So here’s the first one.

First things first, this is a Moto Guzzi that belongs to a sculptor called Ed who lives in south London. Ed put the bike together himself over a number of years and in my mind you can assuredly say that it was built for a purpose by a man with a vision. I love it. It’s a fantastic combination of old and not so old, all wrapped in a patina that one can virtually smell.

It was initially parked quietly on the edge of the “display area”, not attracting much attention unlike the collection of shiny and immaculately turned out exotica that invariably fill the car park on a day like Sunday. It was only when he wheeled it out to centre stage that peoples attention was alerted and a small group of admirers gathered to fire questions at its happy owner. I wandered over, liked what I saw and reached for the camera. For some reason only known to my subconscious it wasn’t important to know the size of the engine, it was big, nuff said, or where all the various parts had come from. It was just a great bike to look at, a true “bitsa” in the best interpretation of the word and displayed an unashamedly honest approach to its engineering and finish. There was nothing flashy about it but Ed’s sense of, and attention to, detail was a breath of fresh air after nearly an hour of shining Ducati specials armed with expensive aftermarket components, and concours standard Laverdas.

It seemed obvious that this Moto Guzzi was built to do the three main things in a bikes armoury well: go, stop, and carve round corners. As I said, I didn’t ask many questions but from the look of the front end, taken from a Ducati Monster perhaps(?), equipped with two huge discs and a pair of Billet 6 callipers it was a serious tool. The front wheel was capped in a wonderfully curvaceous carbon fibre mudguard, it was virtually the only shiny bit on view, though you could still admire the carbon weave below the lacquered surface. Its high tech origins a fine counterpoint to the headlight mounts fashioned from aluminium angle and the double seat which seemed perched atop the frame rails. The whole bike is covered in lovely touches. From the repeated pattern of cut outs on the cylinder head protectors and the battery support plate under the seat, to the small adjustable tie bars that secure the carb tops to the rocker box covers. I can only assume these are to stop the carbs rattling themselves to death. From the modern radial master cylinders for clutch and front brake to the discrete little oil pressure gauge atop the left clip-on by the tachometer. I liked the fact that the fluid reservoirs didn’t match and that the rear tyre didn’t need to be the size of Sussex to look utterly purposeful.

Time and again my eye returned to the frame. I don’t know the history of it but the colour is what I remember most, a lovely kind of duck egg green. Such an unusual colour and it had something aeronautical about it. It reminded me of trips to the RAF museum at Hendon in north London where peering into open undercarriage and bomb bay doors one gets a eyeful of the inner structure of some of the planes, their very skeletons, and they are invariably covered in a coat of greenish paint. So in a way very apt for a big bike frame.

The whole bike though was dominated by the engine and the enormous polished fuel tank. One doesn’t appreciate how big a big Guzzi engine is until you’re up close and personal like this. It’s a fantastic thing, a true statement of engineering purpose and when equipped with two huge carbs and a pair of the most extreme bell-mouths I’ve ever clapped eyes on, one that intends to make the very earth shake.

I could go on. Needless to say I had to go before hearing the beast fire up but, I’m sure this won’t be the last time I see this bike. I’ll be looking out and listening out for it. It was great to meet Ed and learn a little about his fabulous motorcycle, a true testament to the values of creativity and individualism that many of us admire. He says he’s thinking of another project and if it turns out anything like this one it’ll be a cracker. Good luck with that Ed.