Little Fairy Wren. Gilded Acrylics on canvas. For sale €350. 6" x 6" framed behind glass.
Not the wee brown bird of the ancient Irish tradition of hunting the wren (An Dreoilín) on Saint Stephen's Day, but a native bird of Australia. I wish we had more such colourful birds here. Maybe we wouldn't have been buck-lepping around and battering them with sticks... The wren, the wren, the king of all birds, St. Stephen's Day was caught in the furze, Although he was little his honour was great, Jump up me lads and give him a treat.
Chorus: Up with the kettle and down with the pan, And give us a penny to bury the wren. 2. As I was going to Killenaule, I met a wren upon the wall. I took me stick and knocked him down, And brought him in to Carrick Town.
Chorus:3. Droolin, Droolin, where's your nest? Tis in the bush that I love best In the tree the holly tree, Where all the boys do follow me.
Chorus:4. We followed the wren three miles or more, Three mile or more three miles or more. W…
Yes, yes, I know. I'm late for my flight. There are a couple of reasons why I've taken so long to enter the world of digital illustration. For one thing, I love to paint and get my hands dirty and smell the paint and feel the brush in my hand. I became an illustrator to be a painter who gets paid properly from time to time.
Another thing is, I did already try some years ago. For a while I used a program called Painter which promised to give painterly results but I struggled with it before giving up on it as I just couldn't get the results I wanted.
Two paintings which have been with me for quite a long time have just found the same new home. Even though I'll miss them, it's so much better for them to be out, doing their own thing; running in the fields and gambolling in far-flung meadows. So farewell to them and may they bring much happiness.
I made a post about the top painting, 'Going to See a Man About a Dog' around the time it was completed (2010) but since then, the post has been lost somehow. However, thanks to the Wayback Machine internet archive, I found this snapshot of the text I wrote:
5 JUL Going to see a Man About a Dog
When my siblings and I were nippers, ‘I’m going to see a man about a dog’, was very often the answer we got from dad when we asked where he was going. I was sure that one day, he’d arrive home with a puppy, though that never happened. Perhaps it was difficult to find a dog, especially on the way to and from the pub? [Ironic, incidentally, when you consider the amount of dog turds litter…